Kiss Quick
by pleasant-hell
Summary: Fifteen cards went out in the mail. The cards were shipped all across the country. From LA to New York, up to Seattle and down to Miami. Tears were shed and hugs were exchanged. Then fifteen people left their homes for Lima Ohio.
1. Chapter 1

Another second person revolving narrative.

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><p>Fifteen cards went out in the mail. The cards were express shipped all across the country. From LA to New York, up to Seattle and down to Miami. They were all signed for and promptly opened. And around the country, plane tickets were booked, cars were packed and plans were made. Tears were shed and hugs were exchanged. Bags were packed and phone calls were made. Then fifteen people left their homes for Lima Ohio.<p>

You look out the window of the streets where you grew up. A profound sadness filled you up as you watched the suburban streets go by. The reason you're here is not a pleasant one.

As the cab pulls to a stop in the familiar house. You see that you're not the first person to arrive. You have mixed feelings seeing Rachel and Finn on the sidewalk in front of the house. You pay the driver and open the door. You pause to just listen to what they're saying

"It's just a week," Rachel wrings her hands together as she and Finn slowly walk up to the front door, "We can make it through the week right? Then we'll finish splitting our things and go our separate ways."

"Right," Finn nods, straightening his tie. He looks at his left hand where his wedding band now rests like it feels so weird to have it back on after not wearing it for weeks because you know he hasn't.

"Rachel," you finally call out to her.

They both turn and see you. You close the door to the cab and take you bag from the drivers. You set it on the curb and walk to him. You walk straight up to Rachel and sweep her up in your arms, "Are you okay?"

Rachel nods against your shoulder, tears accumulating in her eyes. She sniffles, "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

You pull away to take a good look at her. She looks tired. "Yeah."

Rachel wipes at her eyes, "What about your show?"

You smile softly at her, "This is what understudies are for." She smiles back at you. You rub her shoulder then turn your eyes up at the front door, "Is anyone else here?"

"We just got here," Rachel shrugs.

You glance at Finn, trying to contain your malice for the man. Well you don't try really hard, "Finn."

Finn nods to you with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Quinn."

You put your arm around Rachel's shoulders and start the walk to the door.

"Whose bag is this?" another voice calls from behind you all as you and Rachel are on the first step up to the porch.

You all turn around and see Sam. You're so glad he's here. Sam has always been a great, caring guy and you know Rachel's going to need as much support as she can get. He picks up your bag and carries it with him up the sidewalk along with his duffle bag. His cowboy boots scrape against the dusty sidewalk as he nears you.

He stops in front of Finn and they share a manly hug. Then Sam moves to you and Rachel, wrapping his long arms around you both.

You all start the journey up to the front door. Before you could get up the white stairs attached to the porch on the powder blue house, the front door opens.

"Hey guys," Tina sighs heavily. She leans on the doorframe like she's exhausted.

"Hey," Rachel moves to her from under your arm and hugs Tina.

You take your turn to hug Tina and then everyone filters in. Mike, Sugar, Artie and Puck are already sitting in the pristine living room. You wish you had something to say to everyone as you greet them to make it hurt less.

"Where's Mrs. P...I mean...Mrs. Schu-" Finn fumbles. "Ms. Pillsbury."

"She hasn't come out of her room," Tina explains. "We kinda let ourselves in."

Rachel looks around the room hopelessly. "What do we do now?" You move over to her and stand next to her in case she needs you. She takes your hand immediately.

"I already called the Shiva team," Puck looks up from the coffee table he was staring at. His eyes catch Rachel's eyes. She nods to him and rests her cheek on your shoulder.

"What's a shiva team?" Sugar asks.

"All the Lima Jews," Puck explains patiently, "All ten of us or whatever got together and made a shiva team. Whenever someone dies and we have to sit shiva they come with food and stuff to put over the mirrors and candles and crap."

"What's shiva?" Mike looks up at Rachel. "I mean I read about it some on the plane ride here."

Before Rachel can answer there's a knock at the door. She starts to go get it, but you place a hand on her shoulder before moving to the door. When you open the door, you find Brittany and Santana standing there. Both of them are sporting ponytails and jeans. Santana is wearing a blue tank top with a tailored leather jacket and Brittany has on a screen-printed tee with a zip up hoodie. They both look exhausted and Brittany's eyes are red.

You move to Brittany first and hold her close, watching Santana carefully over Brittany's shoulder. She has her eyes downcast as she holds onto the strap of the bag that is slung over her shoulder.

You usher them both inside, your hand on the small of Santana's back. Brittany walks across the room and sits next to Mike while Santana lingers near the door.

You shoot Rachel a surprised look, which Rachel shares. You're glad that you're not the only one that just felt the room get colder, but now you want to know what's wrong.

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. No one is really sure what to do.

There's another knock on the door, but before anyone could open it, the door opens. A man with wiry black hair peeks in with a box under his arm. Behind him a few women stood. "Hello, we're the shiva team."

Rachel walks up to them, "Thank you for coming."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he kisses both of Rachel's cheeks and steps past her, straightening his green button down shirt. The women all kiss Rachel's cheeks, bringing their boxes with them.

"When is the funeral?" he asks.

"Tomorrow morning," Tina states.

He nods and surveys the group. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. Rachel and Noah already know me. I'm Havi. This is Kelly and Roberta. You don't have to worry about anything. When you get back from the funeral tomorrow, the house will be ready. We just need to take a few measurements today and get an idea about the layout of the house.

"Just... avoid the master bedroom," Rachel tells him quietly, "The deceased's wife hasn't come out of her room yet."

"I understand," he says. He pats her shoulder and takes off with the two women throughout the house.

"What do we do now?" Finn asks. You try to keep yourself from wanting to hit him every time he opens his mouth.

Brittany looks up, "Where are Kurt and Blaine?"

"They had to take a later flight because of Blaine's job," Rachel explains. She looks around the room and catches your eyes. She looks helplessly at you. Over these past years, she's become your best friend. You would call her when your classes at Yale were crushing you and she would show up on random weekends to drag you away from your studies and remind you that you still have a life to live. She calls you for every audition she's up for, every part she's gotten. She even calls you when she tries a new deli down the street. You were the first person she called after she and Finn decided they were going to separate and you spent a sleepless weekend in her bed with her, holding her while she cried.

You walk over to her and wrap your arms around the shorter girl. That is when Rachel starts to cry. Her high school mentor was killed in a car accident and her marriage has slowly eroded from under her. You think that you've used up all the comforting words that you have so you just hold her.

"We're going to step outside for some air," you tell everyone and pull Rachel outside with you. You sit down on the front porch steps with her, completely forgetting to close the door.

You hear steps behind you and see Santana pass you, continuing a walk down the sidewalk.

"Santana," you call after her.

Santana stops in the middle of the sidewalk and looks back.

"Where are you going?" you ask feeling Rachel looking up as well.

Santana shrugs with her hands in her pockets, "I just...for a walk."

"Come sit," Rachel scoots closer to you on the step, leaving more room for Santana.

Santana hesitates before walking back to the porch and sitting on the steps next to Rachel. Rachel takes Santana's arm in her hands and pulls Santana into her. Santana allows it and rests her head on Rachel's shoulder. She takes a deep breath.

"What's wrong Santana?" Rachel asks, rubbing her friend's shoulder.

You look past Rachel to see her reaction. Santana shakes her head, "It's...complicated."

"Well," Rachel sniffles, "I understand."

Santana lifts her head and looks at you before looking at Rachel, "Are you okay?"

Rachel shakes her head, her hair rippling. Her face starts to give way to tears, but she managed to choke out, "I'm not okay. I'm getting a divorce."

It breaks your heart when she cries so you pull Rachel to you again and Santana reaches over and holds her hand. You glance behind you and see the open door. You know that everyone inside can hear you. Brittany appears in the doorway and crosses the threshold and kneels down behind Rachel, softly rubbing her back as she sobs in your arms.

"I'm going to go get some beer," You can hear Puck say. "C'mon Hudson." You're glad that he's getting Finn out of here. You're ready to kill him.

Everyone watches as the two men stand up and walked out. You can see through the open door a few of the people inside, Sugar reaches over and take Artie's hand. He gives her a shaky smile. Mike and Tina look at each other from across the room.

Finn and Puck carefully stepped around the mass of you on the front porch. They chose the safest route on the opposite end of the stairs from you. You hope Finn can feel all of your eyes burning a hole in his back. He stops walking and starts to turn around, but seems to think better of it. You alone will rip him to pieces if he tries to talk. So he follows Puck to his truck and gets in with him, not looking back at the house.

"Well," you can hear Havi in the near empty living room. "We'll be back tomorrow." You watch him place a box by the front door. "Just leave the door open and we'll take care of everything."

Rachel must have heard him at the door and stands up out of your embrace, wiping her eyes. She makes her way back inside and you all follow her. "Thanks you so much, Havi."

"We're about to plan the menu for tomorrow," Havi places his hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Still vegan?"

Rachel nods and hugs him. "We have another vegan too."

"Oh yeah?" he smiled at her, "You want to subject someone else to my vegetable broth matzahs?"

She chuckles, "Yeah. I think she can handle it." She glanced over at you. You share a knowing smile.

"Well, we'll be back tomorrow morning," Havi tells Rachel. "Maybe you should explain a little bit about shiva to everyone before we show up and freak everyone out."

"I will," Rachel nods and looks out the door when she hears a car pull to a stop outside. A quick peek out the door tells you that it's a cab and that Kurt and Blaine have arrived.

Once she shiva team leaves and Kurt and Blaine greet everyone and sit down together on the couch, Rachel stands, getting everyone's attention.

"I know that a lot of you haven't sat shiva before," Rachel tells the group sitting in living room. You look over everyone. Kurt and Blaine are holding hands, as are Artie and Sugar. Sam keeps looking at the door. Brittany is sitting at the end of the couch and Santana is on the opposite side of the room, leaning on a bookcase. Mike has his arm around Tina as they share an armchair.

You look up at Rachel who is taking a moment to gather herself. You stand up and stand next to her, giving her back a gentle rub. She looks gratefully up at you and gives you a nod that says she's ready to continue. She looks at everyone again. "And since I have a few times, I'll just give everyone a quick overview. After the burial, we all come back here. The customary meal afterwards must be eaten in silence. It will be gracious provided by the shiva team." She gestured to the door. "There will be a candle lit for the entire ritual in honor of Mr. Schuester."

She pauses to take a deep cleansing breath, "All the mirrors will be covered in the house. No make-up is allowed to be worn. There is to be no sex in this house. When visitors come, we much all sit in short chairs to show our grief. We all have to sleep here. I know that it'll be cramped, but it's only for a week and it's what Mr. Schue wanted."

"We can leave though right?" Santana speaks up, "Because scored a job for a few nights while we're in town."

"Of course," Rachel nods. "We just ask that you spend the majority of your time here. Your families can come over as well to support our mourning. Mr. Schue didn't have any close relatives and he always considered us his family."

"Where's Ms. P?" Kurt asks.

"She, um, hasn't come out of her room," Rachel licks her lips and averts her eyes. She moves a toward you a little bit and you wrap an arm more securely around her waist.

Mike raises his hand hesitantly. "Was Mr. Schue Jewish? I don't remember him ever saying anything."

"I'm Jewish," a weak raspy voice says from the back of the room.

Everyone's head whip around and you all see Emma standing in the hallway door. She is in sweat pants and a shirt that everyone recognizes at one of Mr. Schue's. It proudly proclaims 'Butt Chin'. She looks a hot mess and her face is red. She is clutching a tissue in her hand, which she gestures with. "I know the red hair kinda throws people off. My grandparents were German-Jews... anyway, I appreciate you all coming. Just...make yourselves at home. I'm..." Her eyes well up, "I'm going to bed. I'll see all of you tomorrow."

With that she disappears down the hallway.

You all sit quietly in the living room. There's another knock on the door, which you move to get. You open the door and find Mercedes. Her cheeks are wet with tears and you immediately hug her. Sam appears behind you. You know that he and Mercedes broke up years ago because of the distance between them with him in Nashville and her in LA. But when she sees him, she lets him hug her and cries on his shoulder.

Puck and Finn come back with beer. As they walk toward the kitchen Finn keeps his head down, which is good for him.

Finally after about an hour of sitting and crying, someone suggests dinner. You, Rachel, Kurt, Brittany, Mike and Sugar all take to the kitchen to make dinner for everyone. You send Puck back out to the store for some things with the hope that he takes Finn which he does.

"It's crazy," Rachel sighs as she cuts up vegetables to dump in the salad. "It's like...he was here and then... he's just gone."

You nod. It's an incredibly depressing reminder that at some point life ends whether you want it to or not.

"Remember that time he dressed up as Elvis?" Sugar smiles.

Everyone in the kitchen laughs. Rachel stops chopping to laugh. Kurt looks at Sugar, "I didn't even know it was still legal to make sequin suits like that."

The laughter continues while you remember Mr. Schue. There were so many good times. He was there for all of you during the tough times. High school is never easy on anyone, but McKinley seemed to be a hotbed of teen angst and raging hormones.

The last time you saw him was a few months ago. You were home visiting your mom and sister. They flew you in to celebrate you getting a leading roll in Yale's rendition of _Miss Witherspoon_. You ran into him getting coffee and spent an hour catching him up on your life. He was genuinely proud of what you're doing with your life.

You set down the utensils you were using and turn away from the group. Your own tears are coming now. As you turn away you feel a tug on the back of your shirt. When you turn around, you feel Rachel pull you into her. You bury your face in her neck, holding onto her.

"I'm sorry," you sniffle and pull away.

"It's okay," she tells you and gently wipes away you're tears, "We're all in this together." She pushes up on her tiptoes giving you a secret smile. She whispers, "Especially you and me."

You smile back so, so thankful to have a best friend in Rachel. You both go back to your duties in the kitchen.

Then you all fall into a silence. You have trouble keeping tears back. You see Rachel is struggling as well. Brittany sniffles and blinks away tears while Mike rubs her back.

"Should we stay here tonight?" Mike asks. "Maybe like figure out where we should all sleep and see if we need to change it a little."

Everyone agrees and you all talk about where everyone should sleep. Rachel goes to look at the layout of the house and you all start to make plans of where to sleep. Everyone is paired off, couples obviously staying together. You pair yourself with Rachel because Finn isn't allowed within ten feet of you by your order.

Puck walks in while you're all making bedding assignments. He sets the groceries you needed down. Mike looks up at him, "When is Lauren getting here?"

"She had a wrestling match in Brazil," he says as he takes off his jacket. "I'm picking her up in the morning."

"I thought you two were broken up," Sugar looks over at him.

He nods. "We are, but she's still my best friend." Puck's eyes fall on you, "Do you need anything else?"

You shake your head and give him a brief hug, "Thanks Puck."

He nods and walks out the door.

"Hey," Santana softly says in the doorway of the kitchen. You can see her looking at the back of Brittany who is busy helping Sugar with the pasta sauce. "I'm going to take off. I'll be back late."

"We'll leave the door open," You nod to her. "You and Brittany will probably be sleeping in the music room if that's okay." You figure you can fit them in between the electric piano and the shelves full of sheet music.

"Whatever Brittany wants," Santana says her eyes dropping to the ground. After a beat, she just turns around and starts walking.

"Wait," Rachel calls to her, stopping her retreat, "Aren't you going to eat?"

Santana pauses and looks back at Rachel. "I'll be fine." Her voice comes out at strained and maybe even a little defeated. You watch her retreat before looking at Brittany. You know the other blonde well enough to know that she's extremely upset and is trying to play it off.

"Where is she going?" Sugar asks Brittany.

The blonde wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. "She's bartending downtown for a few nights since she's missing a week of work at home."

"Are you guys okay?" Rachel asks softly. She places a hand on Brittany's arm.

Brittany immediately nods with a, "yeah," that doesn't convince anyone and moves away from Rachel's touch. She quickly changes the subject by asking someone to pass her the garlic salt.

After dinner, everyone just decides to go to bed. You end up in the music room with Rachel and Brittany. You hold Rachel's hand as she goes to sleep. You lull your head to the other side. You can't tell if Brittany is asleep, but you hope she and Santana get better. You know that they both care about each other by the way they're both hurting.

You fall asleep and are awoken by soft rustling next to you. Your eyes open in time to see Santana pull on a t-shirt. You see her sit down next to Brittany. She looks down at the blonde and kisses her head. "I love you," she whispers and then lays down, her back to Brittany.

There's so much about what's going on across the room that you don't understand. You guess that you'll have time to figure it out over the next few days.

You turn back to Rachel whose hand is still in yours. She's sleeping soundly next to you. You kiss her forehead. This is going to be a tumultuous week for her and you're going to be there for her. Every step of the way.

Seven days in one house with your former glee-mates. You exhale. It's going to be one hell of a week.


	2. Chapter 2

When you wake up, you can hear talking. It's quiet and probably down the hall, but you figure it's time to start getting ready for the funeral. You sit up and look down at Brittany. You can see the tear stains on her cheeks. You know she was crying in her sleep.

You glance across the room and see that Quinn and Rachel are already gone.

You look down at Brittany again and gently wipe the tears off of her face. It completely breaks your heart when she cries. You love her so much - you always have. You just don't know if she...

You shake your head. It's not the time for your emotional bullshit. Today is the funeral. There will be so many tears and you going to stand strong next to Brittany for as long as she needs you.

Your fingers make their way through her hair. "Britt, it's time to wake up."

Her eyes flutter open. At first, she looks at you like she doesn't recognize you. Then she seems to let out a breath that she's holding. She deflates against the blankets and pillows. "What time is it?"

You glance at your phone. "It's eight. We have to get ready."

She slowly sits up and nods. As she stretches, she asks, "How was work?"

You exhale. "It's definitely not LA." You didn't come away with as much as you hoped. You were hoping that you would make a couple hundred dollars more, but the pace was a lot slower that your usual job and the tips weren't as good. You still made some money and it was good enough to cover rent. You're going to have to go back in some night this week.

Brittany nods. She rises off of the blanket and looks down at you. "Do you need to shower?"

"No," you shake your head. "I took one last night before bed. I know you hate the bar smell."

She nods again. "Okay. I'll get your clothes."

You don't answer because she's already digging in your bag. You're going to have to wear a jacket over one of your short strapless dresses because you couldn't afford to buy a new dress. Brittany is going to wear black pants and a black button down with a black vest that she thought was a perfect homage to Mr. Schue. She borrowed her outfit from the costume department of her dance troupe.

You're so deep in your thoughts that you don't notice Brittany talking to you until she kneels down in front of you. "Are you okay?"

You rub your face and nod, "Yeah. Yes. I'll be okay." You look into her eyes and for a moment, you can feel it. You can feel that spark that you used to have. You can feel her looking at you like you're the only person in the world. She leans forward and kisses you. It surprises you because she hasn't kissed you like this in weeks. She's kissed your cheek and your head and you've kissed her, but she hasn't kissed you. And you never want the kiss to end.

But it does because the door to the bedroom opens. Quinn sticks her head in and you can see her eyes dart away when she sees what she interrupted. "Sorry, I just came to make sure you two were up."

"Do you need anything?" you have to ask her. She's had such sad eyes since she you all arrived. Not that this is a particularly happy time but... this is a sophomore year pregnant and just kicked off the Cheerios kind of sad.

She slowly shakes her head. "I'm fine. Let me know if you two need anything though. The Shiva team brought bagels and coffee for breakfast."

"Thanks," you tell her since Brittany is very silently extracting your shoes from the bag.

Funerals aren't supposed to happen in weather like this. The sun is shining. There are birds chirping. The grass is soft under the spiked heel of your boots. Your hand is wrapped in Brittany's as you join the procession out to the burial plot.

You're walking directly behind Quinn and Rachel. The blonde's arm is firmly around Rachel's waist. Rachel hasn't stopped crying since you joined everyone in the kitchen before you all left. From what you've gathered so far, this funeral is riding in on the tail end of hers and Finn's divorce. You feel sorry for her. It must be hard.

Emma is sitting in the front row. She's in a black dress and hat with a veil around her face. Sue is sitting next to her holding her hands as she tried to keep a stoic face.

You don't really know where to sit. You would be fine just standing in the back, but you follow Quinn and Rachel into the third row with Puck and Lauren behind you. You find yourself seated between Brittany and Puck. Brittany tangles her arm with yours.

Coach Beiste is the first person that stands to speak after everyone is gathered under the white tent. You can see the casket behind her. It's polished and gleaming in the sunlight. You feel the breath taken from you. He's in there. He's dead and he's in there. He's never coming back.

You feel tears prickle behind your eyes. You hear Brittany sniffle next to you. So you put your arm around her. She leans into your and lets the tears go.

Coach Beiste's words are short and simple and there's not a dry eye in the ceremony. Sue briefly confers with Emma before standing and taking her place behind the podium.

"Will," she starts and pauses to gather herself. "Will was a dreamer. He was a visionary. He believed in all of his kids they way every teacher should." She looks over the crowd. She looks tired. She looks older and more weathered. She momentarily meets your eyes. You see her nod subtly to you before she continues. "He wanted nothing more than to help his students – to see them succeed and be the best people they could be. His glee club served as an inspiration not only to the students but to the whole school."

You look around you and see all of your fellow glee club members. Closer to the back is what you guess is a new generation of New Directions. Another rag-tag group of kids who needed somewhere to fit in and be themselves.

You don't hear what else she says because you're in your own head thinking about life. About your life. It's been slowly falling apart. You don't know what's going on with Brittany. You don't know what's going on with you. You don't understand anything anymore. And you're still exhausted from being out most of last night. You're maybe a little hung over, but no one needs to know that. No one needs to know that you've been drinking at work to numb yourself to the world.

You sense Brittany's swing in mood before it's visible. The tears pour out of her eyes faster than before and you put your arm around her. Your fingers brush up against Quinn's shoulder and she looks at you. Her eyes are red as well so you stroke her shoulder with the tips of your fingers a few times before putting your hand fully on Brittany's shoulder.

Her head drops on your shoulder and your stomach drops. She hasn't been this curled into you in a while. You haven't been able to hold her like this in a while.

You all rise when the casket is being lowered into the ground. It seems so final. Once the dirt is covering it, there won't be anything left of Mr. Schue. His life is erased except for the memories and some old pictures.

You try to fight back the tears. You try to remain strong for Brittany, but... you can't. Not anymore. You've been pushing back everything else that's going wrong that it's all now bubbling to the surface and you can't fight it anymore. You're too tired.

Brittany has moved away from you to hug Quinn and Rachel as everyone starts to disperse. You choke on a sob before turning into Puck. His strong arms wrap around you and your forehead rests on his shoulder as you try to will the tears back into your eyes.

You can feel Puck rubbing your back. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. It's so different from hugging Brittany. They're both taller than you, but it's different. Puck holds you tight against him as your emotion pours out of your eyes.

You don't know how much longer you cry against him, but when you finally pull back, most of the people are gone. Quinn, Rachel, Puck, Mike, and Tina are standing around outside of the tent. You wipe your eyes and mutter, "I'm sorry."

"It's all good," Puck nods. His arm is draped around your shoulders as you make your way to the group. You can see Brittany watching you out of the corner of her eye. She looks hurt and you're not sure why, but you want to fix it.

"Britt?" you ask quietly and walk over to her, right out from under Puck's arm. She turns subtly away from you and you stop walking to her. Your stomach lurches. You wonder what happened. You level your chin and set your jaw then start walking again. You take your place next to her.

Everyone starts walking to the cars that are waiting to take you back. Apparently the Shiva team took care of all of your transportation needs. As you walk, your hands brush up against each other. When it happens again, you link your pinkie with hers. When she doesn't pull her hand away, you count that as a win.

When you get back to the house, there's a whole meal set up on a few folding tables. The people that made it back before you did, are milling about, filling up cups and moving plates around. Emma, you've learned, is back in her bedroom.

"Remember," Rachel says and rests her hands at the back of a chair as you all stand around, scared you'll do something wrong, "This whole meal is to be eaten in silence."

You're not really all that hungry, but you pull Brittany's chair for her. She sits down daintily and you push her in. You sit down in the chair next to her. Puck sits down next to you and Finn sits directly across from you. He looks nervous, especially when Quinn and Rachel fill up the last two chairs to his right. Quinn makes sure that she sits between Rachel and Finn. You can see Finn subtly scooting away from the blonde.

Do you know how to make a post-funeral meal more awkward? Don't let anyone talk. Between the gestures to get people to pass the green beans and the glances being thrown around the table, you've never felt more tension.

Luckily, you and Brittany could practically have your own silent language. You move seamlessly together. It's always been easy with her. When you're handed the mashed potatoes and she's handed the cornbread, you both switch without saying anything. You want to take her hand under the table, but you're not sure if you can or even should.

So you fold your hands in your lap when you're done picking at the sparse food on your plate. You look down at the tablecloth and fiddle with the hem of the tablecloth.

After everyone is finished, clean up is fast and easy because everyone is helping still as silent as they were during dinner. You walk into the kitchen on last dirty dish run you see that Tina opening a bottle of wine.

"Can I get in on that?" you ask, dropping off the dishes in the sink for the next load.

Tina nods and gets out another wine glass for you. You walk over and take it after she fills it up. "How's LA?"

You exhale. "It's nice most of the time. The beach is fun when I'm not working or in class." You don't add that there are few hours during the week where you're not at work or in class or doing homework.

"Awesome," Tina smiles. "Mike and I are talking about moving out there. Chicago isn't what we thought it would be."

"Let me know if you decide to move," you tell her. "I'll show you around."

She smiles at you, "Thanks." You were never really friends and you never really talked in high school, but you feel closer to these people than you ever have.

You peek into the living room and find that most everyone is sitting around sort of staring at each other. You run your hand through your hair, "Excuse me. I'm going to go change."

You slip past everyone without being noticed and make your way back to the music room. When you walk in, you find Quinn sitting down on hers and Rachel's side of the room. She has a bag in her lap digging around in it. She huffs, "Shit." Then she tosses the bag to the side.

"You okay?" she asks.

"I just," she sighs and falls back onto the pile of blankets she and Rachel shared, "I can't find a hair tie and today is such a shit day and I can't look at Finn without wanting to rip his face off."

You kicks off your boots and walk onto the blankets that you and Brittany share. You have a seat and hand Quinn the wine.

She takes it and finishes it all in a few gulps. Then she hands back the empty glass. You stand back up. "I'll go get some more. There are some hair ties in my bag." You gesture to the black leather bag next to Brittany's blue one.

You sneakily refill your glass and head back to the room. When you walk into the music room, Quinn is sitting completely still. Your bag is in her lap and she's holding a red velvet box in her hand. You take a rather healthy gulp of the wine and step into the room, closing the door behind you.

Quinn looks from the box to you. "Is this what I think it is?"

"An engagement ring," you nod.

She looks confused, "You're going to ask her to marry you at a...funeral?"

You shake your head and sit down across from her, leaning back on the leg of the piano bench. You take another sip of wine and pass it off to her. You take a deep breath that doesn't help to calm your aching heart.

You reach for the box and gently lift it out of Quinn's fingers. You open the box and see the diamond sparkle on the silver band. You saved for almost a year to buy it. It isn't really huge or anything, but it's probably more than you should have spent. "I, um...I've been carrying this around with me for eight months."

Quinn furrows her eyebrows, "Why haven't you asked her?"

You snap the box shut. You move the small box around in your hands and then tap it on your thigh. "I don't know if she loves me anymore." Your voice is scratchy and thick with emotion when you add. "Maybe she never did."

"What are you talking about?" the blonde moves closer to you, sitting right next to you. "She's always loved you."

"Not like-" you pause because you can feel the tears coming. You haven't actually said any of this out loud. No one knows about the ring. No one knows about your doubts. You duck your head and pull your knees to your chest. Your voice is quiet because if you say it any louder you might break. "Not like I love her. I've always been so in love with her and lately... I think it may be staying with me out of obligation or habit or something. We're still friends." You look up at Quinn like you're pleading your case to her. "We're still best friends, but... I don't know. She's not in love with me anymore... maybe she never was."

You can't hold back your tears anymore. You start sobbing all over again. Quinn pulls you to her and holds you tight.

There's a knock on the door. "Hey girls, we have visitors." You hear Mike call through the door.

You pull away from Quinn and wipe your eyes. "Be right there."

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks, watching you as you stand up.

"I'm fine," you shake your head. "I'm going to go wash my face and then I'll be out." You polish off the wine, drop the small velvet box into the glass, and set it on the bookcase by the door.

You look into the mirror in the bathroom. You can hear the people in the living room talking. You can hear soft crying coming in the direction of the master bedroom. You take a deep breath. You can't go out there looking like you've been bawling your eyes out. Even thought you have been. You just can't let anyone know.

After you make sure that you don't look like you ever shed a tear, you dry off your face. In the mirror, you look into your own eyes. You don't feel like yourself. You don't look like yourself. The fire in your eyes is gone. You feel old and tired. You feel worn down.

You can feel the tears start to come back up so you stop looking at yourself. You pause with your hand on the doorknob, composing yourself so that you can face other people. Finally you manage to turn the knob and open the door.


	3. Chapter 3

The second day of shiva you, Santana and Noah are the first ones up. You left Quinn to sleep because she looks so tired and she's been almost exclusively taking care of you instead of doing her own mourning. You feel bad, but you don't know what you'd do without her. You glance up from your thoughts to see that Noah doesn't have a shirt on and he rubs his hands over his chest as Santana pours him some coffee. "Thanks."

Santana nods to him. You noticed her actively avoiding Quinn yesterday. When she was talking with some of Will's extended family, she made sure that she was sitting the a chair at least two people away from Quinn. She also avoids eye contact with Quinn. You want to know what's going on between them. Maybe you can help.

Now Santana's sitting across the small kitchen table from you, her eyes glued to the light bamboo grains. Noah is behind her opening the refrierator, "What would you ladies like for breakfast?" He dips his head down to get a better look at something on the bottom shelf. "We got more lox than a deli in New York."

"You're hilarious," Santana drones and sips her coffee. Nothing unusual in her response. Same snarky Santana.

He turns around and looks at the back of her head with a smile. "I've been working on that one." He turns his attention to a basket next to the refrigerator and picks it up. He takes the cloth napkin off the top revealing a plethora of bagels. He puts one in his mouth, but doesn't bite down. He just holds it here as he replaces the napkin over the top of them. He picks up his coffee with his now free hand and joinst you and Santana at the table. He sets everything down but looks like he forgot something. He leans back in his chair, balancing precariously on two of it's legs and reaches back into the refrigerator to grab a plastic tub out of the refrigerator and tossing it down in front of Santana.

"What's this?" she asks, lifting it up and examining the unmarked container.

"Cream cheese," he says, looking across the table to you. He offers you the bagel basket and you move the napkin to the side and pick out the one that looks less like raisin and more like blueberry, "I don't know what you want on it being vegan and all. Havi said that you liked these when we were kids."

You smile, happy that Havi remembrs what you ate when your grandfather passed away. He's always been a great guy and a firm pillar of the tiny Lima Jewish community.

You decide to eat your bagel plain and take a small bite out of it. Santana is across the table, picking at her bagel. She sighs heavily and pushes it away in favor of coffee.

"You're gonna need your energy," Noah says to her, pushing the bagel back where it was, as if in her food queue. "Day two of Shiva is exhausting."

"Why?" Santana asks before you get the chance to.

Noah takes a sip of his coffee and says, "Well it's where most of the extended family comes. Also everyone who went with him to high school. That's not like the rules. That's just what seems to happen."

She nods dismissively.

There's something about her demeanor that's sad. Not that she's not allowed to be sad. This is shiva after all, but it's a different kind of sad. It's a defeated kind of sad. You take a deep breath. "Are you okay, Santana?"

She shrugs, "Yup. Just tired."

"Are you going into work tonight?" you ask, trying to keep her talking so maybe she'll open up to you.

She takes a sip of her coffee and nod solemnly. "Yeah."

You think it must be tough for her having to work during shiva. She has to be up in the morning to greet mourners and go to work at night. She looks positively exhausted right now.

There's a content silence around the table. Noah is busy with his bagel and Santana is staring at the table like there's a movie playing on it as she drains her coffee. You're okay with just looking about the kitchen, contemplating life and how it can be snatched away in an instant.

"So what's up with you and Finn?" Noah asks with a mouthful of bagel and cream cheese.

You look up at him and try not to look guilty. Maintain eye contact and don't look to the left. People look to the left when they lie right? Or was it the right? You manage to form words as incoherent as they come out, "I, um, what do you mean?"

"You're married, but you're not sleeping in the same room," he offers easily. He watches you over the top of his coffee mug as he takes a sip.

You lick your lips. "Well, um -" You're studdering for something to say. You're not good at pretending to be married when you're not. It's not something you were able to rehearse and all good acting needs rehearsal. Which you did not get.

"If they slept in the same room, then Quinn would have to bunk with you and Sam and that would be awkward," Santana offers. You turn and look bewildered at her. How could she possibly know? You are however thankful for her intervening.

You mouth thank you to her as soon as Noah looks away to get the coffee pot, offering refills to everyone at the table.

You're soon joined by a flurry of other people wanting to get breakfast so you slip outside to free up the space for someone hungrier than you. You step out onto the tiny, creaky back porch and bounce a little on the balls of your feet to make sure that you won't fall through. Then you stand and lean forward against the railing of the porch over looking a neglected back yard. You're not really in the mood to be around people, but you need to be soon before mourners start arriving. You find that that weeds growing up precariously through the yard are good company.

Just as you're about to go inside and find Quinn to wake her up for the day, the door opens.

"Rachel?" Finn asks stepping out onto the porch with you. The porch lets out an audible groan under his considerable weight.

You look up at him and lean back on the railing on the porch. "Hey Finn." You haven't had much alone time since you came to the divorce agreement. You sort of thought that was the point of getting a divorce after all.

"I sorta wanted to talk to you," Finn put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground. Classic Finn move. It makes his cute and vulnerable at the same time. You've seen it a million times though. Enough for it to lose it's charming magic.

"About what?" you ask him. You're very close to telling him that he needs to contact your attorney instead, but his high school role model just died and you don't have that heart to stop him

"About us," he says, his eyes finally meeting yours.

That was what you were afraid of. You don't want to talk about it anymore. You've poured your heart out more than once to Quinn about this. You've talked yourself in and out of this marriage. You've finally decided that it isn't working anymore. That's it. There's nothing else to discuss.

When you don't say anything, he licks his lips. "I don't wanna do this."

"Do what?" you ask. You hope he doesn't want to pretend anymore. It was your idea to save face, but you really can't dodge anymore prying questions. It's apparent that Santana already knows and she and Quinn won't be around every time to make sure that you don't trip over your own tongue again.

"I don't want to get a divorce," he quickly mumbles out.

That you did not expect. You've been distant from each other for months. You started sleeping in the guest room even though your dads are the ones that bought the apartment. You barely talked because there wasn't much left to say. One day you just decided (and Quinn convinced you) that you deserve to be happy and you were miserable. Finn never wanted to go see shows. He never wanted to go out to dinner with your friends. You hate that he leaves his clothes on the floor and doesn't rinse off his dishes. You fight about what to watch on TV, what to eat, where to go, what to do, you've even descended into fighting about fighting.

You finally realize that he's waiting for an answer, "Finn, I..." You shake your head. "Why? I wanted to go the couples therapy. You wouldn't go. We tried to talk this out ourselves. Everything is already settled."

"Mr. Schue dying made me realize -" he starts, but that start immediately sets you off.

"It always takes some dramatic event for you to realize that you're in love with me or you like me or you want to be with me," you raise your voice because you're so frustrated with him. "Why couldn't you just love me because it's...Tuesday? Why couldn't you just love me when everything is boring?"

He opens his mouth, but the back door opens. Quinn steps out in her sleepy morning hair, but alert eyes. Her grey sweatpants hang off of her hips and her snug blue t-shirt is swirling crookedly across her torso. You have a hard time not smiling at her disheveled appearance. You've seen it over the last few weeks to know that she quite literally must have just rolled out of bed. She'd come to your apartment every free second she had to spend the night, some times getting up at four in the morning to get back and to class on time. You've dropped her off at the train station many times in different shades of that look.

She adjusts her top as she asks Finn in a commanding voice, "What are you doing to her?"

"Quinn, it's okay," you tell her because you can see her about to pounce on Finn, like a lioness ready to take down a sickly gazelle. A look of disappointment flashes across her face, but nods slowly. She starts to walk back inside but you catch her hand. "I don't want you to leave though." To be honest these past few weeks, you want her constantly by your side. You want her arms around you or her hands touching. You need her - now more than ever.

She freezes only for a moment before turning back toward you. You take her other hand and pull her closer, wrapping her arms around you, not leaving any room for misinterpretation of what you want. She moves into you and locks her arms in place. It feels so easy with her. Her arms just fit around you. pHe looks around awkwardly before nodding. He bows his head as he walks through the door to the inside. You turn to Quinn and fix her hair a little.

"You don't have to scare him off every time he's around me," you tell Quinn although you secretly love it.

She mumbles an apology and gives you a squeeze. "I just worry about you. Especially when I can hear you yelling from our room."

You frown. You didn't know you were that loud.

She sighs and holds you to her body. You rest your chin on her shoulder and revel in the hug. With a gentle squeeze around your shoulders she adds, "I don't like living so far away from you."

"It's only a forty-five minute train ride," you tell her logically and with a smile. "And after you graduate, I'm sure you'll get offers from all over the place, but I..." you've been dancing around this subject for a while, but now seems like as good of a time as ever to bring it up. "If you decide to...take a job in New York, do you think you might want to...move in with me? We could be roommates?"

She chuckles. "That sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."

"Really?" you ask. You thought that there would be more to it than that.

She smiles her perfect smile and hugs you. "Of course. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather live with."

You grin. That sounds perfect.

Quinn gets summoned to help with something in the kitchen and you're a little sleepy from all of this Shiva stuff going on so you head back to the room you're sharing with Quinn, Brittany, and Santana. You're going to lay down for a little bit and hopefully Finn and everyone else who heard you will forget about the yelling you did.

You lay down on yours and Quinn's blankets and hold her pillow to her chest. You always feel better when you can smell her perfume. You close your eyes trying to force yourself back to sleep. There's no telling when the visitors will come and the sooner you get to sleep, the more sleep you get.

Of course sleep doesn't come easily. You open your eyes and as you roll over to get more comfortable, something in the book case catches you eye. In an empty wine glass on the shelf is a small, wine red, velvet box. You can't help, but be curious as to what is in the box. You look around like someone might catch you before you stand up and make your way over to it.

You carefully pick up the glass by the stem and extract the box. When you pull it out, you replace the glass and ceramoniously open the box. You gasp in surprise at the ring inside. It's larger than you were expecting. You carefully take it out and look it over. The diamond cut is gorgeous. You're no expert, but you think it's a princess cut. Then you look around again before sliding it onto your left ring finger. Of coure you just got out of a marriage, but this is way bigger than the one Finn got you. And it's gorgeous.

Then you take it off and inspect the inside, looking for initials or something to give you a clue as to whose it is. Of course there's nothing on the smooth silver.

When you hear footsteps coming, you quickly put the ring back into the velvet slot. The door opens and Brittany is standing there, still in her sleeping shorts and t-shirt. She looks tired and you bet she came to take a nap as well.

"Oh, sorry," Brittany mumbles and starts to leave, her arm dragging the door closed behind her.

You stop her by calling out to her. Then you smile, "You can stay. I was just about to take a nap."

"Me too," Brittany steps inside. She notices the open box in your hand and pauses. "Who is that for?" Her forehead wrinkles as she looks the box over.

You shrug. "I don't know. I just found it." You hand her the box and sit down on your bed of blankets on the floor. "It's beautiful though."

Brittany looks it over, dipping her head down to get a better look at the ring perched between her thumb and forefinger. "Yeah." She gives it one last once over, replaces it, and snaps the box closed. "I'll just put it on the piano so it doesn't get lost."

"Good idea," you lay down again and hold Quinn's pillow, burying your face in it, "Sleep well Brittany."

"You too," Brittany lays down on her bed, facing away from you with one final exhale.

After forcing all thoughts from your brain, you drift off to sleep.

"Rachel," Quinn softly wakes you up.

You slowly open your eyes and stretch. Taking quick stock of your body, you feel very refreshed. You smile at her as you roll onto your back to get a better look at her, "Hi."

"Hi," she says quickly and quietly. "Um, did you happen to show Brittany that ring that was in the glass?"

You're so confused as to why it would matter, but you nod anyway, "Was I not supposed to?"

She checks behind her before laying down next to you and pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. "It's a secret, but it's Santana's. It's for Brittany. She just doesn't know if she should propose or not and has been carrying it around for months."

"No way," you say. Then you feel really guilty for showing her the ring. Of course it's still a lot Santana's fault for leaving it in plain sight. "Why was it in the wine glass?"

"We were drinking last night and she showed it to me and then got pissed," Quinn explains patiently. "I should have taken it down." She exhales and glances up at the bookshelf where the wine glass used to be.

You look over the soft features of Quinn's face, your eyes lingering on her lips for a little bit. They always look so perfect even without a trace of lip color. Then you reluctantly meet her eyes. "Why doesn't she think she should ask?"

Quinn takes a deep breath and looks at the neckline of your shirt. "She's not sure if Brittany feels the same way." Her hazel eyes rise to meet yours, "She doesn't know if Brittany still loves her."

"That's proposterous," you scrunch up your nose. "Brittany has always loved Santana."

Your best friend bites her lip. "She's scared. Things are different."

You have to admit that besides you and Finn, you thought that Brittany and Santana would make it. You and Finn certainly didn't, but you really hope Brittany and Santana work it out. They fought so hard to get together and to stay together through high school. It's hard to think of one of them without thinking of the other.

You also get the feeling that Quinn isn't telling you everything. She has a look on her face like she's hurting too. You want to make it better - make it right for her, but you don't know what's wrong and Quinn is not one to just outright tell people what's going on with her.

"Are you okay?" you decide to try the outright ask her way although you can pretty much mime the answer she's going to give you as she gives it.

"I'm fine," she answers predictably, "Are you okay?"

You nod against your pillow. "I guess we should get out there huh?"

"Probably," she smiles at you. She picks up her hand and reaches forward toward you although she seems to think better of it and uses the hand to press against the ground in an effort to heave herself off of the ground. You wish she would have followed through.

You both get dressed, not bothering to dress in seperate rooms. You've seen each other in multiple stages of undressed as she's taken to living with you on the weekends.

"Ready?" she asks, slipping on some of her signature ballet flats.

You nod. You look over at Quinn. Your rock. Your best friend. You brush her bangs out of her face and push up on your toes to kiss her forehead. You'd be lost without her. Then you take her hand and pull her out the door behind you, ready to face another day of mourning with her by your side. a


	4. Chapter 4

When you wake up, Santana is laying next to you. She's fast asleep with her hair falling away from her face and her cheek squished against the pillow. Her left hand is resting on top of the pillow next to her face.

You're laying next to her, but you feel like she's so far away. You reach out and touch her hand just to make sure that she's...real. With your other hand tucked under the pillow that's beneath your head, you reach across the space between you and touch her hand.

Once your hand covers hers, you run your finger over the back of her hand. You've always loved her skin. The way it is always so warm and soft. You don't know what's going on. With her or with you. She's been acting weird and you have too. You just don't know how to stop it. You want everything to go back to the way it was. You want Santana to be happy and you want to...fix everything. You just don't know how.

You feel so far away from her even though your hand is on hers. You feel like there's something between you. Everytime you move toward her, there's something in the way. You don't know what it is. You haven't felt like this since high school and everyone made fun of you for being stupid. They actually made you feel stupid even though you knew you weren't and Santana assured you that you're perfect the way you are. This problem is making you feel stupid again. And all you want to do it cry. But you can't run to Santana this time because there's something in the way. You can't explain it. You don't know what it looks like. You can just feel it.

She starts to stir and her nose scrunches up like it does when she's about to wake up. You smile a little at how cute she is. She's done it a million times. Every time she's ever woken up, but it still makes you smile.

Her eyes flutter open. It takes a minute for her eyes to focus in on you, but when she does, her eyebrows scrunch together. "Are you okay?" She pushes up on one of her elbows to get a better look at you.

You nod. "I'm fine." You have the strangest urge and just go with it. You pull her by the material of her shirt that covered her stomach to you. She moves with your pull and when she gets close enough, you wrap your arms around her. This shouldn't feel so weird. This shouldn't feel like you're hugging someone for the first time. You have one arm around the small of her back and one around her shoulders, holding her body to yours. Has it really been that long since you've done this?

You feel the tears start to trickle out of your eyes and you bury your face in the hair that's covering her shoulder.

"Britt?" she asks. She's laying on top of you and it's oddly comforting. You can feel her arms on your sides as she pushes herself up to look at you, but you stop her. You hold her in place. You just want to hold her.

She manages to roll to the side, turning you as well because you won't let go. You never want to let her go. At least this way, she has one free arm that's moving from stroking your side to petting your hair.

"What's wrong, babe?" she asks you after your crying has turned into sniffles.

The mere thought of trying to actually tell her what's wrong breaks you. You start crying again and try to force out the words. She deserves to know. "There's - there's something wrong with us."

You know Santana. You knew her better than anyone else in the whole world and you can feel her tense up under your arms when you say that. She doesn't say anything in return. She just keeps stroking your side and your hair and breathing. You don't know what she's thinking and it scares you.

Before you can bring yourself to answer the door opens. "Hey guys..." Noah trails off. Your back is to him so you can't see him, but his voice is lower when he adds, "Some of Mr. Schue's friends are here. Rachel said we should probably be out there. I'll...um... tell them..."

"We'll be right out," Santana answers for you both.

You hear the door click shut a second later. You lay on the ground with Santana for a few more minutes in silence before she moves off of you. "We should go."

You're disappointed, but you know why you're here. You have to talk to people. It's part of the rules.

You both put your shoes on and walk out to the living room. You reach out and tentatively take Santana's hand. She glances back at you and you can see her swallow. That hurts your heart. You want to know what's wrong.

When you enter the room, she guides you over to the small chairs and you sit down next to her. You don't like these chairs. Your longs legs have to fold up so that people can walk past you. You sigh and look at the open door where people are filing in.

"Hey," a familiar man's voice says next to Santana. You look over at Dave Karofsky and see him looking at Santana. He's wearing a black button down shirt and nice jeans. Santana lets got of your hand and stands up to hug him. When she sits down, Dave looks at you so you take your turn to hug him. He smells nice and why better than he did in high school.

He picks up one of the empty little chairs and sits down facing both other you. "I'm am so sorry for your loss."

Santana quietly says, "Thank you."

It's awkward for a moment before Dave leans forward and asks, "So how are you ladies?"

Santana crosses her arms over her chest and slouches down in her seat. It's her basic defensive stance, so you take over. "We live in LA now. Santana's doing great in school and I'm dancing."

Dave gives you a genuine smile. "That's great."

"What are you up to?" Santana asks, dropping her arms. You take the chance and take her hand. She glances at you, but you can't read her. She turns back to Dave as he talks.

"Oh," he beams at the mention of what he does, "I run the LGBT resource center here in town. We're opening up a runaway shelter soon. It's really exciting."

That's when you see Santana smile. You know she's happy that kids in town won't have to go through what she had to go through alone. You're happy too. It was so hard on her. You just want to be close to her now so you turn your chair toward her and hold her one hand in both of yours.

Santana and Dave continue to catch up while you watch, content to just hold Santana's hand and think about what went wrong - where it went wrong.

When Dave leaves, Santana walks him out the door. You stay inside because some of your old Cheerio friends have joined you. You catch up with them. Most are married with children. None of them look really happy when they talk about their lives. Which means that they quickly question you about your life.

"Are and Santana still together?" one of them asks.

You nod and make a show of looking around. "Yeah, she's around here somewhere."

"That's so great," another one smiles. "You two are perfect for each other. Always have been."

"If anyone can make it, it's Brittany and Santana."

"Are you married yet? That's legal in California right?"

"Any idea when you're going to have kids? Are you going to adopt or inseminate?"

"Brittany and Santana forever."

You find yourself with tears in your eyes unable the answer any of these questions. Because you don't know any of the answers. Everything is so up in the air and you feel so lost. You quickly get up our of your chair and mumble, "Excuse me."

You walk straight into the bathroom and sit down on the edge of the bathtub. Everything is just so messed up right now and you want more than anything in the world to make it right. You want the answers to their questions. You want the answers to your questions.

You watch the tears fall from your cheeks and land on your knees. You feel so helpless.

You finally compose yourself and rinse off your face although you can't see yourself because the mirror is covered up. You hope you look okay.

As you exit the bathroom Sam is standing there. "I wasn't like... waiting for you. I mean I was because I have to pee." He stops trying to explain and dips her head down to look you in the eyes. "Are you okay Brittany?"

You try really really hard not to break down right there, but you do. Tears start trickling down your face against and Sam puts his arms around you.

You cry for maybe another five minutes before you remember that Sam really has to pee. So you let him go with a forced smile as you wipe your eyes. You want to go find Santana anyway.

She's standing in the kitchen whispering with Rachel about something until you walk in. You never really ask Santana what she does in secret because you trust her and it's usually for you, like that surprise birthday party she threw you last year.

She glances up at you and you can see her noticing every single tear streak down you face. She puts her arm around your waist and pulls you to her.

"How's your, um, job by the way?" Rachel asks as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear."Here in town?"

You can feel Santana shrug. "It's alright. Having to take a cab is really cutting into my tips though."

You never thought about how she'd get there before. She certainly didn't bother you with the details. You join in the conversation, "I have an idea."

She quirks an eyebrow at you and you pull your phone out of your pocket. You quickly call your dad and explain the situation to him. He tells you that it's not a problem and you can pick up your favorite form of transportation in high school whenever you want.

So an hour before Santana has to go in for the evening shift, you walk to your old house. Her head is down and her eyes drag the sidewalk as it disappears under you. Again you reach out and take her hand, lacing your fingers together like you have been doing since high school. It used to make her smile when you did it, but now... you don't know. It feels like you don't know anything anymore.

As you near your parents' house, you can see that you dad as gotten your dirt bike out for you. You know that Santana is petrified of riding on it, but you've convinced her to go on rides with you before and you hope that you can again. You can feel her grip on your hand tighten as you near it.

"Brittany, I don't think this is a good idea," she tells you, stopping her feet a few metres from the bike.

"C'mon," you tell her, pulling her with you. "It'll be okay. We'll go slow. I won't let anything happen to you. You have to go to work right?"

Santana bites her bottom lip and has a staredown with the dirt bike. She takes a deep breath and looks at you. You try to convey to her that you'll take care of her. You just want to help.

She doesn't move so you swing your leg over the bike and kick the kickstand back. You start up the engine and rev it for a moment. It takes a minute, but she eventually gets onto the back of the bike.

You take it slow the first few streets because her grip on your waist is starting to hurt. You can feel her face buried in your back and you smile a little. You miss this. You miss her. She always seems so far away even when she's close, but now you feel close to her.

When you pull up to the bar, Santana is quick to get off. Her shoes scrape against the cracked sidewalk in front of the bar.

"What time do I need to pick you up?" you ask her as she awkwardly lingers close to the bike.

She puts her hands in her pockets and shakes the hair our of her face. "You don't have to get me. It'll be really late."

"I want to," you say earnestly. You want to help her. You tilt your head to the side and pucker your lips.

She kisses you. It's just a peck, but you can see a tiny smile on her face. You miss her smile "Two thirty."

"Hmm?" you ask, wondering what she means.

"You can pick me up at two thirty," she tells you. Then she slowly turns around and walks inside.

When the door is closed and you can't see her anymore, you drive away. You decide to go for a little ride before you head back to the house. You need to clear your head.

Motorcross has always made your feel free - like you could fly. The motocross track that McKinley uses is on a piece of land on the outskirts of town. You swung back by your parents' house to grab your helmet from the garage. You managed to do it without them noticing because you're sure they would have tried to stop you.

You stop at the edge of the track next to a telephone pole. There's a switch box on the side of it that you flip open and push the handle up. The bright lights come on over the track revealing the dirt hills and banked turns. You drive onto the track and stop at the starting line.

You put your hair up and then fit the helmet on your head. You glance over at the single tree tucked in the small patch of grass left from where the track snaked around where the team used to take breaks and tune up their bikes. You remember Santana sitting there under the tree with her sunglasses on, watching you. She never missed one of your races. She was always there. Always. She would socialize with your friends on the motocross team even though she had nothing in common with them, but you. Sometimes she would bring water for everyone in the sweltering autumn heat.

You close your eyes and wish you were back in high school. You wish so hard that you were back there where it was easy. It was you and Santana and that was it.

When you're eyes pop open, you gun the engine, kicking up dust behind you.

You're pretty much covered in dirt by the time you leave. You shut off the lights and head back to the house for a shower and a few hours of sleep before you have to pick up Santana.

You get a few weird looks as you enter the house, helmet in hand and covered from neck to toe in dirt. You don't even look at anyone. You're not in the mood. You just go straight to the bathroom and take a shower.

Of course you get no sleep. You lay in bed and think about what went wrong and you can't pick anything out. There was no singular moment that changed everything. Maybe it's been going down hill for a while now and you're just now realizing it.

You can't sleep and you don't want to keep Quinn and Rachel up with your constant tossing and turning so you get up, put on some jeans, a t-shirt and Santana's leather jacket. Then you slide on your boots and slip out of the room.

You don't know where you're going. You just drive. The air running through your hair and the sound of the engine sooths you. You're anxious. You know that you're going to have to confront Santana soon. Like as soon as you pick her up.

So at two twenty-seven when you pull up to the bar and you see her leaning on the wall next to the back door you're frustrated. You wanted to talk to her and she's not in any place to talk.

"Are you drunk?" you ask her as you pull to a stop next to her. You know she is, but you want her to tell you why.

She doesn't answer you. She just walks over to the bike and climbs on the back. You rev the engine and take off. Her arms feel great around you, but her shifting on the back of the bike is making it hard to steer.

So you gun it and try to use the speed to counteract her swaying. It works for a while, but also serves as to make her arms constrict around you.

You continue your aimless drive that you were on before. You're not tired. The cold air breezing across your face makes you more awake than you've been all day. You can feel Santana hold onto you hard as you turn a corner. No matter what, drunk or not, she's still scared. You slow down a little bit so she's not as nervous.

You turn into a new neighborhood that's being built by McKinley and drive around until you're in the back part where there's a half-built playground. It's secluded. It's dark and you're alone.

You put your kickstand down and sit there.

"What are you doing?" Santana asks.

You cut the engine and bite your lip. "I wanna talk."

"Talk about what?" she asks with a huff. You can feel her arms disappear from around your waist as she ungracefully dismounts. You slide off of your bike and follow her.

"I want to talk about us," you finally spit out. You need this. It's been eating you up and you need to get this out. You both need this.

Santana kicks a rock that bounces and hits a pipe sticking out of the ground. "About what?"

"What we were talking about this morning," you tell her exasperated. "We're not working."

Her nonchalance is starting to hurt your feelings. You want her to take this seriously and to not be drunk. You want her in this conversation and in this relationship. You need to her understand just like you need to understand.

She just kicks another rock and doesn't say anything.

You grab the sleeve of her jacket and turn her around to face you. You know she's trying desperately to shut down her emotions and you can't have that. You need her to pay attention to what you're saying. Tears prickle the back of your eyes. "We're broken and I want to fix it, but you won't talk to me!" you yell at her. You've never ever yelled at her before, but you're terrified that it's too late - that this is already too far beyond repair.

She turns around and takes a few steps away from you. Just as you start to go after her, she whirls around on her heel. You immediately see the tears streaming down her face. "Don't you think I know that?" she sounds mad, but you can see that she's really hurt. "I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with us. What's wrong with me? What did I do?" She keeps pointing to her chest as she speaks. Then she throws her arms up in the air. "I don't know what to do anymore. I've given you everything - _everything_. I don't even know if you love me anymore." And suddenly she's vulnerable. Her eyes are tracing the dirt around your feet. Her hands sink into her back pockets and she just stands there.

She's not watching you. She doesn't know what you're going to do before you do it. The way her hands are in her back pockets leave the normally guarded girl completely vulnerable. She's offering you her chest - her heart and she's not even trying to protect it.

"Santana," you say her name softly because you need her to look at you. You need her eyes.

She takes her time dragging her eyes from the ground. Finally she looks at your face. The tears haven't stopped pouring out of her eyes. You reached up and wipe your cheeks of your own.

"Santana, I-"

A siren sound interrupts you. You sigh and let your head fall back so you're staring at the sky. You can see the red and blue lights flickering across Santana's face as she turns toward the intrusion. When you look over, you see a police officer getting out of his car.

As the officer gets closer, his slow meandering steps become familiar. "Azimio," Santana kicks the dirt at her feet, "Fuck."

"Do you ladies realize that this is private property?" he asks as he walks up.

Santana rolls her neck as she wipes the tears from her face. You know she's about to say something and since she's drunk, it won't be nice so you step in. "Sorry Azimio. We'll leave."

"Brittany?" he asks like he didn't recognize you before. Then he turns to your girlfriend. "Santana?"

"Yes," Santana huffs. She sighs exasperatedly.

Azimio further examines Santana and asks her, "Are you drunk?"

"No," Santana growls. You know she's about to do something stupid so you take her hand and pull her away from Azimio toward your bike.

"Hey you know it's illegal to drive one of those on the road," Azimio calls after you.

You don't hesitate to hop onto the bike and pull Santana on with you. You've been riding your dirt bike all over Lima for years. Your dad is best friends with the District Attorney. You've never been scared to get into legal trouble before. You don't plan to start now. So you kickstart your bike and pull off into the street, ignoring the officer that's still standing next to the unfinished house watching you drive away.

You continue your aimless drive, trying to find somewhere to talk to Santana. You need to finish this conversation now that you got her to open up.

You can feel her burying her face in your neck and the back of the collar of your t-shirt start to get wet. She must still be crying. That breaks your heart so you cruise your dirt bike all the way out to the track again. You pull to a stop next to the switch box and flip on the lights. Santana holds onto you until you pull up under the shady tree where she used to sit and watch you.

She immediately dismounts and puts her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she walks over to the tree. There's still a perfect curve in the trunk where she used to sit and watch, which she sits down in immediately. You look at her, the engine still running underneath you. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are pink. She looks up at you broken and utterly devastated.

Your thoughts of taking a lap to gather your thoughts are abandoned. You cut off the engine and slip off of your bike. Something that she said is still resinating with you._ I don't even know if you love me anymore._

The dirt crunches under your boots as you walk over to her. The tree is shading her from the huge lights above, but enough peeks through the leaves to make her tears sparkle.

You sit down next to her and lean back on the tree. She doesn't look at you. Her forearms are resting on her knees that are eyelevel to her. You reach other and take her hand closest to you, pulling it into your lap over your crossed legs.

"I still love you," you tell her quietly.

She sniffles, but doesn't look at you. Her eyes are staring at her knees. "Are you in love with me?" she asks. "Were you ever in love with me?"

You look over at her and feel tears sting the back of your eyes. You don't like crying, but you've done a lot of it today. You just can't stop. "Why would you think that I'm not?"

She takes a shaking breath that rattles your insides. "Because you've been... I don't know. We have like two different lives and sometimes we share part of them. You have your dance and I have school and work and I don't know what's going on with us. I don't know what happened, but we've been growing apart."

"I know," you mumble. You feel it. The distanct between you is huge. "Can we fix it?" You finally just forget about tiptoeing around her. You close your eyes and rest your forehead against her temple. "Please Santana. I want to fix it."

You feel her free hand on the back of your neck, slowly stroking the bottom border of your hair. "Were you in love with me when we got together?"

"So much," you whisper in your ear. You never really knew what being in love was like until Santana. She set the bar so high for love that no one else could ever possibly reach it.

"Are you still in love with me?" she asks breathlessly.

You pull your head away from her, opening your eyes, and you can see her looking at you. You can see the fear in her eyes. She's terrified that you're not in love with her anymore. You want to crush that fear out so you surge forward and kiss her. You kiss her hard for a long time trying to let her know that yes, you are still so much in love with her. You don't want her to doubt it.

When you break away because you need to catch your breath she looks at you. "You haven't kissed me like that in weeks."

You frown and think back over the past few weeks. You've been super busy with dancing. Sometimes Santana kisses you, but it's always a hello, goodbye or goodnight peck. Then it hits you that you haven't been intimate with her in a longer period of time. You used to go at it all the time no matter where or what time it was. Now you have your own apartment, you share a bed and you don't ever have sex anymore. Have you really been ignoring her that much?

You look into her eyes and see the hurt and the fear. She has done everything for you. She pays the rent and still makes time to go to school. She makes sure you have gas money to get to auditions and back. She makes sure that all of your dance clothes are ready for you when you have to leave. You start to get angry with yourself. You've forgotten how much she means to you and taken her for granted. Her devotion to you is unwavering, but you never took the time to take care of her in return.

"Santana," you reach up and cup her cheek with your hand. "I am so, so sorry. I am so in love with you. I always have been. I shouldn't - I shouldn't have made you feel like I did."

"No, I -" she stops abruptly to swallow. "I should have said something instead of icing you out."

You feel like that's progress. You lick your lips and have to ask. "So we can fix this right?" You don't know what you'd do if you didn't have Santana. She's your everything.

She looks at you. She doesn't seem really sure and that worries you. "I want you to be happy Brittany."

"You make me happy," you immediately answer her. You want her to be sure.

She looks away and out across the track. "I haven't been making you happy." She seems so sad and disappointed when she says that.

"You do. I just haven't been showing you like I should," you scoot closer to her and rest your lips on her shoulder. Then you rest your chin on her shoulder, "Santana I love you and I don't want this. I want you to be happy too. I want us to be happy together."

Santana puts her arms around you. "I love you too Britt-Britt. I think we can fix this. I just want you to be happy."

You let out a small sigh of relief. That's all you want. A chance to fix what's breaking. You want Santana and you want a life with her. That's all you've ever wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

It's almost three a.m. when you wake up alone in the room. Rachel is gone from her place and both Brittany and Santana are missing. You frown and push up off of your blankets. You're not sure that Brittany and Santana ever came back, but you're sure that Rachel was here when you went to sleep.

Your bare footsteps barely make noise as you walk across the wooden floors of the hallway. Puck is passed out on the floor of the living room, next to the couch where Lauren is sleeping and the kitchen is empty. You look out on the back porch and then silently check all the other bedrooms where everyone else is still sleeping.

Finally you open the front door and immediately see her. She's sitting on the floor of the porch with her back against the white, wooden railing. There's a mug in her hand that she's holding on top of her outstretched legs. She looks up at you when you open the door and softly smiles, "Hey."

"Hey," you automatically smile back. Her smile does things to you. It always has. It's like magick. You take a step outside and close the door behind you. You take your place next to her because that is always and will always be your place - right next to her.

She rests her head on your shoulder and you both just sit there for a minute. "You okay?" you finally ask. You've been staring into her mug, which seems to contain some coffee.

"Yeah," she shrugs and sits up. "I just couldn't sleep. I didn't wake you up did I?"

"No," you assure her. "I just wake up sometimes. I wonder where Brittany and Santana are." Rachel takes a deep breath, "I think Brittany went to go pick Santana up from work, but that was an hour and a half ago."

"I'm sure they're fine," you tell her although you're not so sure yourself. You worry about them in their current state. "Why'd you come outside?"

Rachel blows some bangs out of her face, "I was going to watch TV so I didn't wake you up, but Noah and Lauren as asleep in the living room." She picks up her mug and takes a sip before offering it to you.

"Are you sure coffee is such a good idea?" you ask her although you accept the mug and take a sip anyway. She chooses not to answer which means that she knows it's a bad idea, but she's going to keep doing it. Her head rests on your shoulder again and she wraps both of her arms around your arm that's closest to her. "If the world ended tomorrow, would you have any regrets?"

That's a loaded question to a girl that had a baby at sixteen which she gave up for adoption, got a tattoo of Ryan Seacrest's face (that has been removed by many laser treatments), dyed her hair pink, got into a car accident because she was texting, let Noah borrow and break her temporary wheel chair so he could tie it to the back of Finn's truck and be pulled through Lima. A girl who fell into old patterns her first year of college by dating boys she had no interst in. A girl who harbored more secrets than the CIA.

"You don't have to answer," Rachel adds, no doubt in response to the pensive look on your face. You put your hand on top of one of hers that's on your arm. "I guess not. I mean if the world ends then there's not really anyone left to have regrets."

"Touche, Fabray," she tightens her grip on your arm, but it's not uncomfortable.

An approaching engine makes you curious, but not enough to move. Even when it stops in front of the house, you don't get up. You hear footsteps approaching and by now you have a good idea of who it is. Brittany and Santana walk up to the front door together, hand in hand, and not noticing you.

"How was work?" Rachel asks.

Both Brittany and Santana jump, Santana jumping between the noise and Brittany, a protective hand on the blonde's stomach, pushing Brittany behind her. She realizes who you are and drops her hand. Santana runs her hand through her hair and places a hand on her panting chest. "What are you two doing out here?"

"Can't sleep," you answer simply.

Rachel lifts her head from your shoulder, "I'm sorry I scared you."

Santana shrugs and looks back at Brittany. "It's okay."

"Are you guys okay?" you ask them. You know them both well enough to know when they've been crying and Brittany's pink eyes with Santana's puffy cheeks tell you that they have been.

Brittany steps closer to Santana and threads her fingers through the shorter girl's. Santana looks at her for an answer and Brittany kisses her forehead as Santana's eyes slip closed. When they break away from each other, Brittany doesn't break eye contact with Santana when she says, "We will be."

You let out the breath you were holding, waiting for their answer. You want them to be okay. They're your best friends, apart from Rachel, and you want them to be happy.

"Would you like some coffee?" Rachel asks, gesturing to her coffee mug.

Santana shakes her head, briefly holding your eyes. "It's been a long day."

You nod to her. They seem like they're moving in the opposite direction than they were before - toward each other instead of apart and that makes you happy. You can see it in Santana's eyes. It's like a giant weight has been taken off of her and she can breathe again.

Brittany pulls Santana inside, leaving you and Rachel alone again. Rachel rests her head on your shoulder again and sighs. "I'm glad they're still together."

There's something in her voice that makes you think that she's jealous of them. Of course, who wouldn't be. They've been in love for as long as you can remember and they've always been together. Brittany and Santana are best friends and the greatest love of each other's lives. You put your arm around Rachel's waist, your fingertips brushing her hipbone on the opposite side. "I'm jealous too."

She chuckles and ducks her head, looking right at your lap if her eyes are open which you're sure they're not. She does that when she's embarrassed. "How do you know me so well Quinn?"

"You're my best friend," you turn your head slightly and kiss a part of her forehead peeking out from her parted bangs. It's a safe, friendly kiss. You've done it before, but it always makes your stomach flutter in a way it shouldn't.

Rachel picks up your hand that's resting on your lap and turns it over in her hand. One of her fingers lightly traces the lines on your palm. "Can we go look at the stars? Will - will you go with me?"

"Of course," you tell her. You're starting to get sleepy again, but if she's not, you'll stay up with her.

You both ascend the front porch steps and lay down in the grass of the front yard. There is a streetlamp across the street blocking out some of the dimmer stars, but you can still see more than you can count.

You're laying in the grass trying to remember some constellations from your elementary school trips to the planetarium, when Rachel tugs on your arm. You look over at her and see her looking at you. She pleads with her eyes as she pulls you closer to her. You rest your head on her chest, over her heart like you know she wants and both of her arms wrap around your torso.

You turn your head to the side so that she's comfortable. With your ear pressed to her chest, you can hear her every heartbeat and it lulls you into a contentment that pulls you deeper into exhaustion. One of her hands starts to run through your hair pushing you all that much closer to sleep.

You can feel yourself start to slip into sleep right before she starts talking. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?" you hum against her chest and tilt your head up to sort of look at her. Your eyes droop when she picks her head up so she can look at you.

The serious, pensive look on her face changes into a soft smile when she looks at you for a moment. She moves your hair away from your face with her fingers. "You're adorable."

It's admittedly not the first time she has called you adorable, but you don't think she's ever had that look in her eyes when she did before. You can't quite pinpoint the look on her face, it wakes you up more and shakes up all of your organs. You lick your lips because suddenly it seems like there's no air in the world.

There are stars sparkling in her eyes as she pushes up on her elbows. Your head starts to fall off of her chest and before you can catch yourself, you feel her hand cradling the back of your head, slowly lowering it to the soft grass behind it.

You can feel where this is going and you can't seem to stop it. You can't seem to move at all.

She's hovering over you, her forearms pressing into the grass on either side of you. Her bangs are hanging in her eyes, but she doesn't make a move to push them away. She uses her the tip of her tongue to pull her bottom lip between her teeth. "I - um - I want to...to kiss you." Her eyes search yours, looking for something. You wish you knew what it was.

You hold her eyes, searching them right back before you ask, "Why?"

"I don't - I'm not sure," she admits and swallows. When her lips part again, you wonder what they taste like. It's not something you've consciously thought about, but...now you're wondering. You wonder if her kisses are the kind that make everything move in slow motion or make everything speed up. You wonder where your hands would move to with her lips pressed against yours. The back of her neck? Her hair? Her back? Her face?

"Would it..." her words interrupt your thoughts and suddenly you're looking into her eyes that are much closer than before. You can feel her warm breath breath through the cool night air and brush against your lips. "Would it ruin our friendship if I did?"

Your hands finally find it in them to move, but they seem to be moving on their own. Your fingertips brush against her neck as your thumbs slowly stroke her cheek once, coming to a rest against her jaw. "No." You manage to breath out again all odds because your lungs feel starved.

She looks your face over and you feel one of her thumbs trace the outline of your lips, mapping the territory. "Would it make you uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice low and laced with a huskiness you've never heard in it. When she's done tracing ever centimeter of your lips, her hand cups your cheek.

You don't want to shake your head because it may shake her hand off of your face so you miraculously manage to speak again, "No."

Her eyes run over your face again. If you didn't know her so well, you would have missed the ever so slight curling of her lips. "You're beautiful Quinn."

The simple sentence makes your heart pound against your chest. You wonder if she can feel it or hear it. Everything is becoming blurry around you and all you can see is Rachel.

She licks her lips one last time before lowering her head toward yours. Your eyes slide closed at the first contact. When her lips meet yours, you feel everything at once. You don't know exactly what everything entails because you're so caught up in the feel of everything. It feels warm and scary and tingly. It feels like you're floating on a cloud and crashing to the ground at the same time.

Her lips moves against yours, trying to find their rightful place. You open your mouth a bit when you feel her tongue sweep across your bottom lip. A moan escapes her lips as her tongue takes the first tentative dip into your mouth. When her tongue slides against yours, you feel like everything has disappeared, but Rachel. There is no existence. There is no life or death. There is no grass and no stars. No yard or house or street. No Lima. No Ohio. No Earth. Nothing, but Rachel.

The kiss seems to last forever when it's happening, but all too short when Rachel pulls away. She drops a peck on your lips as she pulls her head away. But she doesn't pull up to look at you or to look at anything. She rests her head on your chest and take a deep breath.

You look up at the star dotted sky. Your mind is completely clear of all thoughts. All you have are feelings, the most dominant one being the residual warmth on your lips.

You're not sure what you're supposed to do after such an earth moving kiss. You're not sure what you're supposed to think or how you're supposed to feel. You're not even sure if she feels anything.

But she lets out a deep sigh, one that means she's tired so you just wrap your arms around her. Your brain feels heavy with exhaustion, the kiss completely draining what was left of your energy.

You can feel her hands tuck themselves under you and her fingers grip the top of your shoulders. She doesn't say anything and neither do you. The stars fade out as sleep overtakes you.


	6. Chapter 6

So Shiva sex isn't allowed, but the way Brittany keeps touching you, you may have to sneak over to her parents' house to get it on. Currently, you're lying on your sides, facing each other while she kisses you lips and your neck.

You know she's probably trying to make up for lost time, but if you let this go any further, the ban on sex will be broken. After on particularly sensual kiss, you pull away and close your eyes, placing a gently hand on her chest. "Britt, we're not supposed to have sex here."

She pouts for a moment before wrapping you up in her deceptively strong arms. "What counts as sex?"  
>You sigh and smile at her, placing a hand on her cheek. You let your smile fade as you stroke her cheek with your thumb. "I love you and when we get home, we can have all the sex you want."<br>She tucks her head under your chin and gives you a squeeze. It's been an emotional night for both of you and you're ready to let it slip away. So you both fall asleep with your hand in her hair and her arms around you.

When you wake up, she's still there, holding you like it's her job. You smile and kiss her lightly on the lips before you start to stretch. Of course, that wakes her up and her sleepy blue eyes look you over. "You okay?"

You smile, "Yeah. I'm gonna go start some coffee okay?"

She smiles back and gives you a slightly off target kiss to the corner of your mouth.

As you're slipping on your shoes by the door, you notice that Rachel and Quinn are missing. Absolutely nothing has moved on their side of the room so you wonder where they've been all night.

After starting the coffee and bumping into Mike as he sleepily walks down the hallway toward the kitchen, you sigh when you get to the bathroom remembering that the bathroom mirror is fogged over so you can't fix your hair. You'll have to wait for Brittany to get up so you can take a shower because without a mirror, your post-shower hair will do crazy things.

So you set off to find Quinn and Rachel. You doubt they're in any of the already crowded bedrooms. Lauren is still snoozing on the couch and Puck is lying on the floor next to the couch. You cross your arms and walk toward the front door, wondering if they're still on the porch.

The screen door creaks when it opens and the thin metal at the bottom of the door rattles when you let it close behind you. You find the porch empty except for an empty coffee mug. There's a car quietly making its way past the crowded street so you look up past the dewy grass. The driver raises a hand to you and you mirror the gesture. You suppose that this house has become the house of mourning. The Shiva house of Lima.

As you turn to walk back inside, a dark place in the bright green grass catches your eye. When you turn back to it, you see that Quinn and Rachel are laying in the front lawn, tangled in each other. You wonder how anyone can sleep outside like that, especially since they're now both covered in a fine layer of dew.  
>You stay on the front walkway and get as close to them as you can. "Quinn." You call her name softly, hoping not to startle her. "Quinn wake up. Rachel."<p>

Rachel's face that is nestled against the grass starts to twitch. Soon her eyes squint completely before slowly opening. She moves her hands around trying to get her bearings and finds her hands planted on either side of Quinn as she pushes up.

You watch as Quinn slowly starts to move. Rachel looks down at her for a moment before quickly standing up and brushing past you to walk inside.

"Rachel?" Quinn asks, for the first time opening her eyes fully.

"Just me," you step onto the grass and feel the dew on the bottom of your feet. You reach your hand out to Quinn and she takes it, allowing you to pull her up.

You both walk inside together and she heads back to the bedroom. She doesn't say why. You figure she's either going to change, shower or go back to sleep. For a moment, you wonder what she and Rachel were doing in the middle of the lawn, but that's when you see the one person you definitely weren't expecting in the kitchen.

Ms. Pillsbury - Mrs. Schuester... Emma. She's sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea between her hands. Her eyes don't rise much from the table when you very slowly move to pour yourself some coffee and carefully sit across from her.

You want to ask her if she needs anything, but you fear speaking will make her go back into her room and never come out again. So you just sit there and sip your coffee, trying to avoid looking at her.

When she inhales across the table, your eyes automatically find her. Her eyes are set on you when she speaks. "I can see you're uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I'm just...still processing."

You nod, "I understand. Don't worry about it."

There's an awkward lull before she perks up and asks, "How's Brittany?"

You reach up an scratch your head, "I think she went back to sleep. I'm pretty sure Quinn and Rachel are asleep in there too."

She smiles softly at you, "That's not what I meant."

"Oh," you run your thumb over the top of your coffee mug. "She's good. She's still dancing in smaller shows and music videos and stuff, but it's only a matter of time before she's really appreciated for how great she is." You're sure of it. Just a few more weeks and she'll be dancing for a living.

"That's nice," Emma smiles and it's not forced. It's easy. "What about you? How are you Santana?"

You shrug, "I'm just going to school and working."

"I'm glad you went to school," Emma glances down at her cup. "I always knew you were smarter than you led everyone to believe." She grins and looks up at you, "I had a file of your aptitude tests to prove it."

You smile back at her. You remember Ms. P in high school always being the quiet supporter of everyone's dreams. You probably should have gone to see her more.

You're about to speak again when Mike and Rachel walk into the kitchen. They immediately start talking to Ms. Pillsbury and soon Tina, Puck and Lauren join the group. Just as Finn lumbers in, you decide that you're going to step out of the kitchen and sit down on the couch.

You hold your coffee on your knees as you sit on the middle cushion. The front door opens and the Shiva team all walk in. They are carrying food and the little chairs that they bring every morning.

Soon people start spilling out of the kitchen and into the living room. Quinn walks in and sits next to you. She's just sitting there so you decide to strike up a conversation. "A pile of blankets on the floor not good enough for you?"

She quirks an eyebrow at you.

"You slept on the front yard," you state and sip your coffee.

"Oh," she nods and looks down at her knees. "Yeah. Last night Rachel wanted to look at the stars so we laid on the front yard and I guess we fell asleep."

"Is that it?" you know something is up with them. You just don't know exactly what.

She opens her mouth to speak, but Sam and Mercedes walk into the room and sit on the love seat together. She shakes her head and you survey your friend. There is definitely something up.

But before you can all her out on it you feel the cushions behind you dip down. Two arms slip around your waist and pull you back onto a warm body. Brittany drops a kiss on top of your head as you lean back against her.

Sam is holding Mercedes' hand as they sit on the couch. He swallows and looks at Mercedes, "I think it's just really sinking in ya know? Like Mr. Schue is gone and Ms. Pillsbury is alone."  
>Mercedes nods and kisses Sam. "I can't even imagine what that's like."<br>You can't imagine not having Brittany and you don't want to even though you came so close to not having her anymore.

As you lean back on her and feel her arms wrapped around you, your thoughts wander to the next five years. What happens if this standstill between you happens again and you're not sitting Shiva? What happens if you fall back into your old patterns with nothing to distract you or remind you how much you mean to each other? You've been together forever and you're so comfortable with her. Maybe too comfortable. So much so that you take her presence for granted.

You feel tears start to accumulate in your eyes. You don't know what you'd do without her. You abruptly stand up. Everyone stops talking and looks at you, but you don't care. You quickly walk out the door with Brittany's long strides easily catching up with you at the far end of the porch.

You lean back in the railing and look up at her through your watery eyes. Worry is etched into her every feature. She walks up to you and pulls you into her arms. "Santana, what's wrong?"

"I can't lose you," you choke into her shoulder. It didn't come out like you wanted it to, but it takes all of your composure not to curl into a ball and just sob. Words just start pouring out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I can change. I'll be whatever you need, just don't leave me. I'll be whoever you want just don't... don't leave me."

It's pathetic and you want to slap yourself, but everything defies logic around Brittany. You can't even look at her when she takes a step back. You can feel her trying to catch your eyes, but you actively avoid it.

"Santana," she softly calls your name and you swallow before finally looking at her. There are tears in her eyes now and you feel guilty.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, but she shakes her head.

"Don't be sorry," she pulls you back into her arms, but keeps enough distance so she can still look at your face, "Why do you think I want you to be someone else?"

"I don't -" You pause and bow your head, "I wasn't working out all that great being me."

"Babe, I love you," Brittany brushes her thumbs against the skin under your shirt. "I love you so much.

More than I've ever loved anyone. I love you. In all your Santana awesomeness." She kisses you, "You are my Santypants. And you always will be ok?"

You nod weakly against her shoulder. Your arms are pressed against your chest between the two of you and she just hugs you tighter.

A few minutes of solitude out on the front porch is all you can ask for. With her arms around you. You just stand there, letting her hold you. But like all great things, it must end. You walk back into the house, hand in hand.

When you walk inside, you're surprised to find Rachel and Finn sitting together in your spot. His arm is across the back of the couch behind her, but she is sitting rigidly in her place, carefully not touching him. You can see Quinn staring at the pair of them across the room in her short Shiva chair. When you walk in she looks up at you, seemingly just as confused as you.

You pull Brittany over to the other side of the room and sit next to Quinn. She keeps looking at Rachel like the smaller girl is a puzzle that she can't quite put together.

After a few hours of accepting mourners, Brittany excuses herself to change her shirt that she's been fidgeting with all morning. She kisses you as she stands and disappears down the hallway.

Between Quinn and Rachel glancing at each other and Emma actually being out of her room, time flies for you. You don't even realize that Brittany's been gone for over half an hour before Artie asks where she is.  
>So you get up and walk down the hallway. She's probably still tired and you wouldn't be surprised if she fell asleep. The old doorknob is loose in your hand as you turn it, making the noise of old metal on old metal. You place your hand on the door as you slowly push it open.<p>

You expect Brittany to be laying across the blankets, fast asleep, but you find her sitting on the blankets, a small velvet box in her hand. Your heart drops when you see the diamond ring on her left ring finger. She looks up at you as you close the door.

She holds up her left hand for you to see. "It fits."

"How did you know?" you ask, staying close to the door with your back against it.

She shrugs and looks down at her hand, now resting in her lap, "Ms. Pillsbury is still wearing hers. Quinn isn't dating anyone and Rachel's getting a divorce." She slips it off of her finger and looks up at you. "It's beautiful."

You nod. It took you forever to pick out the perfect ring.

"When did you get it?" Brittany asks, her face still frighteningly unreadable to you.

You mumble that it was eight months ago, but you have to repeat yourself because she didn't hear it the first time. You clear your throat and take a deep breath.

"When were you going to ask me?" Brittany looks up from the ring between her forefinger and thumb to catch your eyes.

You decided that honesty is the best policy because of everything that's gone down over the past few days. You lick your lips and slowly blink to delay your answer. "I was going to do it that weekend that we were going up to Seattle for your audition. But when we got there... you weren't really... there all that much." You can see the recognition in her eyes. She went to the audition and then went out with some of the other dancers for lunch. She didn't realize how long she was gone, but you were sitting in your crappy hotel room that you had to work a week of overtime to pay for, waiting for her to come back. When she finally did, you were asleep. She didn't want to wake you so she went out again.

You take a deep breath, "Then I was going to do it on the beach on our anniversary, but I had to work late. And you weren't really around that week after that. Then we didn't really see much of each other. Then I wasn't - I wasn't sure if I even should anymore."

She looks hurt by what you say and you feel bad, but you want to be honest with her. You don't want secrets or lies that will only distance you further. You want to keep her so much it hurts.

"Why did you bring it here?" she brushes her bangs out of her face, her eyes solemn.

You look down at the hardwood floor beneath your feet. "I take it with me everywhere."

"Why?"

"Because," you pause, "Because I was waiting - wishing for the right time. I just wanted you to look at me like you used to." You get choked up because saying all of this out loud makes it so much more real. "One look, just once and I would have asked." You can't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks at that. It feels like a knife through your heart admitting that out loud. "I want you Brittany. So much. I just...didn't know if you wanted me back. If I asked and you said no... I would have..." You don't really know what you would have done. You'd probably have a complete breakdown. You'd wish every second of your torturous hell that you didn't exist anymore because the one person that you thought loved you the most, didn't.

She seems to know what you mean because as a few rogue tears slip down her face, she nods. She stands up and walks over to you, not hesitating to pull you into her arms. You grip the back of her shirt, trying desperately to hold her to you forever.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. She only says it once, but with the gravity of a million utterances.

You can't manage words as you choke on your own sob. You just shake your head against her shoulder.  
>She slowly starts to pull away and you reluctantly let her go. She looks down at the ring still in her hand.<p>

Her shimmering eyes meet yours and she asks, "An engagement is a promise right?"

You nod, searching her face for what she's getting at. She knows what an engagement is. Her sister has been engaged three times already. You both talked a lot about how Rachel and Finn's engagement was idiotic in high school while both giving each other adoring looks and promising the future.

She takes a small step toward you, so that her forehead can rest against yours. "I promise not to forget ever again how much you mean to me." She easily kisses your forehead because of her height advantage. "I promise to never forget to remind you of how much you mean to me." She picks up your left hand and kisses your fingers. "I promise that no matter what happens, I won't forget how much you do for me. You're right Santana. You give me everything and I promise to give you everything I am." She kisses your fingers again and it sparks something in you.

You look into her eyes and she's looking at you like she used to. Like you're her hero and her whole world. Like no one in the world has ever loved anyone as much as she loves you.

"I love you Santana," she kisses you softly on the lips. She nervously flashes a smile before kneeling down in front of you, one knee under her. When you realize what she's doing, you can hardly breathe. Your heart is hammering rhythmically in your chest and your eyes flood with tears. She holds the ring up for you to see and asks. "Will you marry me?"


	7. Chapter 7

When you first woke up you felt like the morning felt like truth. You're not sure if it really is what it prances around and pretends to be. You've learned from theatre that one emotion can feel like a totally different emotion if disguised properly or misunderstood.

This morning felt like truth until you realized that Rachel was gone and the morning dew had soaked through your clothes giving you a chill. Then Rachel avoided you all day to the point where you'd take hour-long walks around the neighborhood to convince yourself that you were the one avoiding her.

Now you're halfway across town because you weren't paying attention to where you were walking. You just keep seeing the kiss over and over in your head. Like you're not even in it. You can see her looking down at you like you're standing on the porch watching. You can see her brush your hair away from your face and you can see your own labored breaths.

A gust of wind washes away the memory, but it's still there. It's lingering in the back of your mind, leaving behind a cocoon of its emotions that is encasing you. You feel warm all over even though you forgot your jacket.

As you walk you hear a voice calling out. It seems faint until you reach reality again and realize that the person calling out, is call you, and really isn't all that far away.

You look up from the rough sidewalk to your left where a large house is standing. On the front steps of the house, Mrs. Lopez is searching through her giant designer handbag with two paper bags at her feet. She waves at you with a huge smile that you can't help, but smile back at.

You wait for a car to pass before trotting across the street. She finally has her keys out and is unlocking the door when you reach her. She dips down to pick up the paper bags, but you pick them up first.

"Thank you Quinn," she gestures for you to walk in before her. Everything inside the house is exactly like it was the last time you were there. Maybe a few more pictures, but other than that everything is in place. Brittany's motor cross helmet is even hanging on the coat rack.

You walk right to the kitchen and set the bags down on the counter. They were heavier than you thought they would be and it clinks when you set it down.

"You look cold," Mrs. Lopez whirls past you and pressed the button down for the electric kettle to start. "Let me make you some tea while you tell me what's going on with you."

You lean on the island in the middle of the kitchen, running your fingertips over the polished stormy grey countertop. You're not really sure what to say so you watch her put the groceries from the first bag up. She patiently folds up the first bag and places it under the counter before extracting two champagne bottles. You decide to deflect as best you can and ask, "Are you celebrating?"

A motherly glow surrounds her and she smiles. "I am. We are. Have you heard the news?"

You slowly shake your head. You don't think you've heard any news lately. If it happened in the past twenty-four hours, you definitely don't know what's going on because of your Rachel's kiss induced haze.

"Well I don't suppose they can fault me for being excited and telling you and the cashier at the grocery story, and everyone I could dial on my phone between there and here," she seems absolutely giddy and it's infectious. She pulls out a third and fourth champagne bottle, slipping them into the freezer next to the first two. "Brittany asked Santana to marry her."

Your immediate joy is overcome shortly by confusion. "Brittany asked Santana?" You were sure that Santana was the one planning to pop the question.

She nods. "I didn't get all of the details about how it happened because Santana was crying and you know how squeaky her voice gets when she's crying." She pulls down a mug and box of tea from the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "They are on their way over here to tell me all about it, then we're having a little family get together. It'll just be my sister Gloria and her husband with their sons and a few of my husbands relatives. The Pierces should be arriving with the girls because they stopped there first." She pours the hot water in the kettle over the tea bag in the mug before setting it in front of you. "I wish you'd stay and celebrate with us. At the very least, help me make sure that they don't try to steal away upstairs and hole up in Santana's room."

She turns around to get the honey out of the cabinet and set it down in front of you. "If you stay, you'd have just enough time to tell me why you were walking down the street with a dazed look on your face."

You take the small plastic bear in your hand and squeeze some of the honey into your tea. "I guess so."

"Are you going to make me guess?" she asks with a mischievous grin after you haven't said anything for a minute. "Boy- I mean significant other problems? Potential significant other problems? Parental problems? People being mean to you at school?"

"No," you sigh. "Well, it might be one of those. I don't know. Last night, um, - do you remember Rachel?"

"Rachel Berry?" Mrs. Lopez leans against the opposite side of the island toward you.

You nod.

She nods in return.

"Well she's getting a divorce," you explain and even as you just explain the little parts, you feel a little bit better. It's like a wall is being lifted off of your back brick by brick. "She's my best friend and I take the train to see her a couple times a month and she comes to see me. Especially during her separation that eventually lead to the divorce. Anyway, last night we were sitting on the porch and she wanted to look at the stars." You tell her the rest of the story and watch her reaction.

Her only emotion so far is interest. Her eyebrows furrow, just like Santana's do when she's thinking hard. "Do you feel something for her?"

"I don't -" you pause because you really have not a clue. You tell Mrs. Lopez this, adding, "I didn't think that I did before. I mean, she's my best friend. But now...I don't know."

"It seems to me like you've been in each other's lives this long and you'll be in each other's lives for much longer and you don't need to rush." She pats your forearm, "Take your time."

You look down at the mug between your hands. "Thanks. I'm sorry for dumping this all on you. Especially today."

She laughs, "This is nothing. I lived with an emotional hurricane named Santana for eighteen years. She'd go from crying to laughing to yelling to asleep before I had time to understand what was going on."

You have to laugh at that. You can definitely relate. But despite all the drama, Santana turned out to be a great friend even when you weren't so great of a friend to her.

Neither one of you feel pressured to talk so you just sit in silence while Mrs. Lopez moves around the kitchen, putting away groceries. When you hear the front door open, with the same creak that it had when you were in high school, you hear Santana announce, "Mom, are you here?"

"En la cocina," Mrs. Lopez calls back, half in the refrigerator.

You see Santana round the corner into the kitchen first, followed closely by Brittany and her parents. She stutter-steps when she sees you, but decides to ignore you for the moment and run to her mother. Even though Santana is significantly taller than her mom, Mrs. Lopez hugs her daughter ferociously. She murmurs things to Santana in Spanish that you don't understand so you look at the Pierce family and watch them.

Brittany's mom keeps sniffling and touching Brittany, fixing her hair or rubbing her back. Her dad hasn't stopped smiling since her walked in. You're happy for them. They've been destined to get to this point since they met.

You stand up and walk over to Brittany. She beams at you when you offer her congratulations. You give her a hug and she makes you both sway a little bit. "Thanks Q."

You pleasantly greet both of Brittany's parents and exchange small talk about the engagement.

"Brittany," Santana's mom calls, "Come give your mother-in-law a hug." Brittany bounds over to Santana's mom and hugs her as they both laugh.

Santana makes her way back over toward you, but Brittany's parents steal her attention before she makes it to you. You understand. This is a family time. You slip out the kitchen door and decide to make yourself scarce. You can thank Mrs. Lopez for the tea later.

"Hey," Santana calls out to you when you have your hand on the front door handle.

You slowly turn and look at her. You give her a genuine smile, "Congratulations." You step up to her and give her a hug.

She accepts for a short hug, but pulls away from you to look you over. "What's up?"

"You just got engaged," you offer as a reason not to tell her what's going on.

She quirks an eyebrow, "I can go ask Rachel what's wrong."

"She is what's wrong," you move your hands to Santana's shoulders and sigh, "I didn't mean that. I mean, it's complicated."

Santana's hands are warm on your waist and she gently squeezes, "Quinn, tell me."

You don't see yourself getting out of this without her finding out so you decide to just spill. Everything comes out from the night before to wandering aimlessly around town and ending up here. She watches with understanding eyes and pulls you into a hug again. You sigh into her shoulder and close your eyes. "I didn't think of her like that...until now. Until she kisses me and I let her."

Santana pulls away from you. "Well, is walking around by yourself helping you figure stuff out?"

You shake your head.

"Then stay here," Santana lets her hand fall from your waist and take one of your hands. "My Tia is on her way and she makes the best margaritas this side of Cabo. We're going to eat a lot and drink too much then go back to Shiva. These past few days have been intense and we need to unwind or we're all going to lose it."

"We're suppose to be mourning though," you frown. You don't want to disrespect tradition or anything. You feel like you've lost sight of Shiva completely.

"Where my mom's from we don't mourn the death. We celebrate the life so tomorrow we're going to take a little Puerto Rico to the Shiva okay?" she gives you a small smile. "I wouldn't be me if I didn't break the rules a little bit."

You laugh and she grins before pulling you back into the kitchen.

When the rest of Santana's family arrives, you all move the party to the back patio. It's gorgeous outside now that the sun has decided to dominate the sky. The grass is perfectly cut and Santana's uncle has started the grill. You've been told Santana's dad is on his way back from work, which you are excited for. He's a great man and he makes you laugh harder than most people.

You, Santana, and Brittany are sitting on a long 'L' shaped patio couch made out of black iron and sunset orange cushions. They're sitting on either side of you, even though you know they'd rather be next to each other. It's either because they are trying to make you feel better or because Santana's mom handed you the lime tortilla chips which are still in your lap.

Santana is leaned back with her feet on the small fireplace table in front of the couch. You pick up her hand and look at the ring again. "It fits?"

Santana nods, "We've worn the same size rings since I can remember. She won't wear it though."

"I asked you that means you get the ring," Brittany smirks and looks at her fiancée across you.

"I'll just have to get another one for you," Santana says like she just won the argument. She adds a "humph" and then plucks a chip out of the bowl in your lap.

You look over at Brittany. The blonde is smiling because she thinks Santana is cute and not because she just won the argument.

Santana's phone buzzes in her pocket and it tickles your side because she's so close to you. She pulls it out and taps a few buttons. "Puck, Lauren, and Samcedes are coming over."

"What about Rachel?" it escapes your mouth before you even know what you're saying. You keep your eyes on Santana because she knows why you want to know if she's coming or not.

Santana puts her phone back in her pocket, "I invited her, but she hasn't said anything."

Brittany pulls out her phone and searches for something, "Mike and Tina, Kurt and Blaine, and Artie and Sugar are staying. Mike's mowing Ms. P's backyard."

"So," Brittany's dad walks up to the couch with three margaritas in his hands, one pink, one green, and one a light shade of blue. He offers them to you and you all take one. "How about we hear why Brittany decided to propose in the middle of Shiva?"

You all drink your margaritas as Brittany tells the story. You have a feeling there's more to the story than she's telling, but you know you'll get the real story later.

"Maribel," Brittany's mom calls to Santana's mom, "These lobster rolls are delicious. How did you make them?"

Maribel laughed, "Hard work and a credit card swipe."

Both women laughed together like the best of friends. You love how well Brittany and Santana's families interact. They're all one huge family now and they all act like one.

You look down at your margarita and see that it's gone. You heard something about Sangria so you excuse yourself to find it. You slip inside past Sam and Mercedes who was smiling at each other with love in their eyes.

Once you get inside, you make your way toward the empty kitchen. The afternoon sun is shining throughout the house and you open the refrigerator finding the pitcher of sangria waiting for you. The orange and lemon slices are beautiful as they float in the top, contrasting with the red liquid. It looks like a sunset. You look at it in the glass picture for a little while longer before you hear a throat clear behind you.

"Do I need to give you two a minute?"

You freeze with your hand on the handle of the refrigerator and your empty glass in the other hand. You suck in a breath and turn around. Rachel is standing there leaning against the kitchen island. You can't see her feet, but you know she has one foot flat on the ground and the other foot behind it, her toe tapping the ground. She always does that when she's playing with her nails like she is right now.

"Hey," you offer when she doesn't say anything. You turn back around and fill up your glass before closing the refrigerator. You're trying really hard for this not to be weird, but her avoiding you all morning didn't help. "Do you want one?" you gesture to your drink.

She eyes the drink. "Can I try yours first?"

You nod. You've done this many times before. You'll get a drink and she wants to try it or she'll get some kind of food that you want to try. You share. You're best friends. Even when it's weird.

She lifts the glass from your hand and her perfect lips rest on the rim of the glass as she tilts it up. It's never been erotic to you before, her drinking out of a glass, but now... You can't look away from her lips.

When she takes the glass away, her tongue runs over her bottom lip and she nods, "That's delicious."

"You can have that one," you tell her, needing a moment to compose yourself. You open the cabinet and pick up another margarita glass from the withering stash. You fill it and take a healthy gulp before turning back to Rachel, only to find that she's rounding the island and is standing really close to you.

She looks pensive, watching her sangria ripple in her glass before she looks up at you, "I made it weird didn't I?"

You contemplate pretending like you don't know what she's talking about, but you know she knows that you do. You set your glass down on the counter behind you and place your hands on the cool surface. "A little bit."

"I'm sorry," she sets her glass down next to yours hand gathers the flaps of your jacket in her hands, letting them sway a bit over your stomach. "I just...I felt the overwhelming urge to kiss you."

You nod. You don't want her to feel bad for anything because you enjoyed it as well. "I get it."

"You do?" her large doe eyes beg for everything to be okay again.

You just nod again, this time placing your hands on her shoulders like you would if she hadn't kissed you last night. Maybe forcing things to go back to normal will work even though you now feel a tingle in the small of your back when she touches you.

She licks her lips and you see her looking at your lips. They start to become warm under her gaze. "Would it be too forward of me if I told you that you're the best kisser I've ever kissed?"

You crack a smile and she does as well. You grin. "Not at all."

"What about if I told you I'd thought about doing it again?" she asks, this time her voice is low and her smile fades.

You take in a sharp, silent breath. All too suddenly, you feel how close she is to you. You can feel the heat coming off of her body and her eyes trace a tangible line over your lips. You feel her grip get tighter on your jacket. You can smell her perfume.

You close your eyes and force the breath out of your lungs, along with the truth of, "I have too."

"So," Rachel breathes, unsure and nervous. You could hear it in the one syllable before you opened your eyes and saw it. You don't want her to feel unsure or nervous about anything relate to you, but you wait to see what's she's going to say, praying that it's what you want to hear. She visibly swallows, "So, can I...do it again?"

You're nodding before you can fully register what she said. It doesn't matter. The answer is still the same. You keep nodding until you feel her lips crash against yours. She takes a step forward so that her body is pressed against your front and the counter behind your is digging into your tailbone.

Your lips grapple together, slipping and sliding together and apart before her tongue enters your mouth with a tentativeness that makes you wrap your arms around her neck and pull you closer.

You don't know how long this kiss is going to last and you don't care because you're standing there in the Lopez family kitchen, kissing Rachel Berry.


	8. Chapter 8

Does getting engaged make everything better? Does it make almost a year of complete neglect and erosion better? The answer is no. Not everything is better, but you know it's a step in the right direction. You know that reaffirming your commitment to Santana means that you haven't fixed the hole in your sinking ship of a relationship, but you've gotten out the supplies to do it.

You don't believe that you let it get this far. You almost lost her. You've always been so in tune with Santana. You guess you just stopped looking at your tuner.

So on the way back to the Schuester house with all of the supplies for a Puerto Rican wake, you try to think of a way to thank Santana for not leaving you or stopping all the wonderful things she does for you. You don't have much time to think about it because when you get back to the house, Quinn takes Santana outside to talk.

You get it. Santana has always been your best friend. Well not always, but since you met and you know that Santana is Quinn's best friend as well with the new addition of Rachel. You just feel a little left out sometimes. You didn't go through the hard things in high school that they went through. You came out as bisexual to your parents who hugged you and told you that they loved you no matter what. You didn't get pregnant and kicked out. No one made fun of you at school much and Santana made sure that no one was really mean. Everyone seemed to like you and you didn't make any enemies.

Sometimes you get jealous of the bond they have. They're like battle buddies that made it through the other side of hell together and now they'll count on each other forever. Sometimes Santana will sit at your kitchen table with her laptop open in front of her and email or message back and forth with Quinn. Santana let's you read things if you want, but you don't usually know what they're talking about. She has a special way of communicating with Quinn just like she has with you.

"Hey," Mike walks up to you. You look around and see that you're still in the kitchen. You must have put all the party stuff away without realizing it.

"Hey," you say and straighten out a towel that's lying haphazardly on the counter. It's just something for your hands to do while you wait for Santana to walk back in the door.

Mike smiles at you and gives you a hug, "Congratulations. I heard the good news."

"Thanks," you say, a little confused as to why he's congratulating you. Until it dawns on you. You asked Santana to marry you. It just feels like it's always been that way that you don't think about it... which is your problem. You need a tie one of those strings to your fingers or something. Of course you'd probably forget what the string meant. You let out a deep sigh.

"What's up?" Mike asks, pulling back and leaning on the counter.

You bite your lip, "I keep forgetting about Santana."

"Doesn't she live with you?" he asks.

"Not like that," you put your hands back on the towel and have a mini tug of war with yourself, "Like she's always there that I forget she's there. And I don't want to."

"Hey I totally get it," Mike nods. "I've been with Tina for so long it's like we're already married. It's hard to not forget."

You immediately feel a knife through your heart when you remember that you made her cry. That hurts you worse than anything - knowing you hurt her. "I can't let it happen again."

Mike looks solemnly at the counter. He knocked on the counter and pushed away from it. "Excuse me. I have to talk to Tina."

So you're alone in the kitchen again, waiting for Quinn to be done with Santana when Rachel walks in. She smiles when she sees you. "Just the woman I was looking for."

"Me?" you ask. It may sound like a stupid question, but you don't think Rachel has ever looked for you again.

She nods to you. "Can we go talk somewhere privately?"

You glance at the door. You doubt that Quinn and Santana will be done soon so you nod. "Sure."

Once you walk back to the room you and Santana have been sharing with Quinn and Rachel. Rachel sits down next to the piano and you sit down in the blankets you've been sleeping on.

"I, um," Rachel looks down nervously at her hands. "I wanted to talk to you about Quinn."

"About the kiss?" you ask. That makes sense. Quinn was upset about it and Rachel acted really weird at the engagement party.

"You - You know about it?" she blinks once. Then again. Then she takes a deep breath. "I should have known as much. Secrets don't stay secret long with you three."

That's true. Quinn's pregnancy was the only secret that was ever kept between you three and it didn't stay a secret long.

"What do you think?" Rachel asks.

"Me?" you frown at her. She has never asked your opinion on anything other than dance.

She nods emphatically. "I want to know what you think."

You think over everything that Santana told you and how Quinn was acting earlier. After a minute or so you say, "I think you should talk to Quinn."

Rachel takes a deep breath and sighs heavily. "Damn, I knew you were going to say that."

You can tell that she's nervous so you hug her and say, "She's your best friend. Talk to her."

There's a knock on the door and it slowly opens. Sam sticks his head inside, "Santana sent me to find you guys. We're about to fire up the grill in the back. Ms. P is starting up the margarita machine."

"Awesome," you smile and turn around. That means that you can have Santana back. You try not to run out the door and you wait for Rachel to walk out the door first so you don't look too eager.

But as soon as she steps into the backyard, you step around her and scan all the people decorating for Santana. When your eyes seek her out, she's on a ladder, attaching the end of a strand of lights to the top of the privacy fence. Puck is in the middle of the yard, straddling a tree branch, attaching his end of the lights to the branch.

You trot over to Santana and hold the ladder under her because no one seems to think it's important to hold your girlfriend's ladder or she told everyone she'd be okay which is totally possible. She doesn't notice that you're there until she's climbing down and has climbed right into your arms. She giggles and turns around. "I didn't see you there."

"I missed you," you kiss her out of nowhere. Or what you know she thinks is nowhere.

She rests her head on your shoulder and you sigh contently because she's in your arms. She pulls away and kisses you again. "I missed you too." She looks up as the lights come on. You want to kiss her neck, but you know if you do, you'll want to do more than that to her and you can't right now.

When she looks down at you, Santana smiles, "Wanna help me and my mom and dad make tamales and enchiladas?"

You open your mouth to say yes, but Mercedes calls you to help her hang up some more lights. Your face falls and Santana chuckles, "It won't take long to make the food." She places her hand on your shoulder, "I'll be outside in a few minutes."

You nod, knowing that you have to go help decorate. You look into her eyes and you find a warmness that you've always known there, even when you were too busy to see it.

The lights that are hung up create a sort of spider web over the backyard. Everyone's families start to arrive, including yours. You and your dad are putting plates and silverware out on a folding table that he brought over.

"It's the perfect night for a wake huh?" he asks, looking up at the sky. The sun is setting, blasting pink, orange, and red streaks across the sky.

You nod and straighten out the tablecloth. You miss Santana who is only a few feet away, on the other side of the wall. Now that you know how you made her feel, you want to make up for it in every way you can. You're gutted about how she feels. The look on her face in the middle of that half finished subdivision in the middle of the night still haunts you.

"Are you okay?" your dad asks you.

You nod automatically. You haven't told anyone about the turbulence between the two of you. You sigh. "Um, maybe. I, um," you sigh again. "Before I proposed, Santana and I were kinda having trouble. And it was totally me. I just...forgot she was there. Not that she was there, but I forgot...everything she is to me." You're so nervous about what your dad is going to think. That you forgot about Santana because he's always treated your mom like a queen.

He puts his arm around your shoulders and guides you to the back of the backyard and you both sit in some folding chairs that Rachel's dads brought. He sits in front of you and leans forward with his forearms on his knees. "You didn't propose to try to fix everything did you?"

You think about it for a minute. "Sorta. I know it won't fix everything, but I can't lose her. I need her here so that I can make it up to her. I love her so much. I wanna be with her and I don't want her to leave me." You're getting all choked up just thinking about it. You sniffle and look down. You feel like you've let your dad down.

"Honey," he reaches forward and places his hand on your arm, "The only reason you need to marry someone is that you love them. I have no doubts that you and Santana will be together for the rest of your lives." He pats your arm.

"You're not... disappointed in me?" you ask softly, afraid of the answer.

"You know better than that," he smiles at you.

You sigh. "I messed up though."

He inhales through his nose and sits back in his chair, "Are you going to do it again?"

You venomously shake your head. "Never."

"Good," he nods. He leans to his side and reaches into his pocket. "Your mother wants me to give you something." He pulls out something that you can't see through his closed fingers. "I thought we were going to get to give this to you a long time ago." He opens is hand and sitting in his palm is a purple velvet box.

And you know exactly what it is when you pick it up. "Are you sure?"

He nods. "One hundred percent."

You get out of your chair and hug him, knowing how much he believe in you.

About an hour later, everyone is out in the backyard, eating, dancing or singing on the karaoke machine in the yard that you're sure Rachel had something to do with. Santana is talking with Sam and Quinn by the tree in the middle of the yard. You've been sitting in your chair for a while just watching everyone.

"Hey," Mrs. P sits down next to you, a drink in her hand. She looks tired, but there's a smile on her face.

"Hey," you smile back.

She looks out at everyone, "This was a great idea. Santana's parents were very kind putting this together."  
>"They're the best," you agree.<p>

"I heard you got engaged," Emma says, "Congratulations."

Your eyes seek out the ring on Santana's left hand. The one that was meant for you. "Thanks."

"How did it happen?"

You chuckle humorlessly. It was not the romantic proposal that Santana deserves. "It wasn't really romantic or anything. It was in the music room."

She puts her hand on your wrist, "Maybe you should do it again." She gestures up to the lights. "At night, under the lights, surrounded by people that love you both."

"Really?" you ask, "That'd be okay with you?"

"Of course," she says confidently, "This is a celebration of life and love and music."

You lick your lips and nod. "Okay, I think I will."

"But Shiva rules still apply," she pats your knee, "No sex in the house." She stands up and walks over to where Rachel's dads are doing the twist and Rachel is face palming.

"Brittany!" Tina calls you. She motions for you to join her and Mike in dancing. You guess it does look like you're sitting alone, not participating. So you bounce to your feet and shuffle over to them, spinning and pulling some classic Michael Jackson moves on the way, making them laugh.

As the night goes on, you never really get to talk to Santana especially alone. It's okay with you for right now because you have something big planned for later. You're walking back inside, looking down at your empty drink when you feel a tingle in the back of your neck.

"I never thought I'd get you to myself," Santana's voice reaches your ears before her hand reaches your arm. She swings you around and pulls you into her arms.

You smile, resting your arms on her shoulders while her hands run up and down your waist, across your ribs. "You can always have me to yourself."

She tilts her head up, barely brushing her lips against yours, "Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," you hum against her lips.

Santana grins, "So maybe we could sneak into the music room..."

"That's against the rules," you can't help, but find the little wrinkle in her nose adorable when she pouts.  
>Then her eyebrows go up and another sneaky smile moves across her face, "I can get the keys to my parents' car."<p>

"They told us not to do that anymore," you kiss her forehead.

"That was four years ago," she pouts, "Please."

She'll forever be the most adorable person ever. "How about we do something else?"

She doesn't look too happy, but asks, "Like what?"

You take her hand and pull her to the unoccupied karaoke machine. You feel in the pocket of your jeans to make sure what you really need is still there. You let go of her hand as you step up behind the microphone.

"Woo! Brittany!" Puck calls, pumping his fist.

"Me Against the Music!" Artie yells from the porch.

Mercedes's boisterous laugh echoes through the yard, "Since some Whitney!"

You chuckle at your friends. "I'm not actually up here to sing." You reach up and unhook the microphone from the stand. When it's free you glance at Santana who looks confused. You smile wider and look out to all the people that are now looking at you. "I think most of you know that Santana and I have been together for a long time. We were best friends before that. She's always been there for me. She's stuck with me even when I've had major blonde moments" you pause for everyone to laugh. "Even though I'm not the smartest person in the world she still loves me." You dig in your pocket and extract the only prop you need. You clutch it in your fist and turn your body toward Santana. "I already proposed to her once, but it wasn't romantic and it wasn't with everyone we love. So," you get down on one knee in front of her. Her hand goes straight to her mouth, covering her shocked expression. "I know we've been going through a rough time. But more than anything I want you to be happy. I want to make you happy. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in the whole world. Santana Anita Lopez, will you marry me?"

That's when you pull out your great grandmother's engagement ring. What was your grandmother's engagement ring. Then what was your mom's engagement ring. Your dad giving it to you signifies that it's now Santana's if she wants it.

Santana looks at the ring that's currently on her finger. She smiles through the tears sliding down her face and slips the ring off of her finger before presenting you with her ringless hand. "Yes." Santana's smile is so wide that you feel butterflies in your heart just looking at it. You slide your great grandmother's old ring onto Santana's finger. The large diamond sparkles on the white gold band. It probably costs more than your apartment building, but no ring will ever be able to show Santana exactly how much she means to you.

As you're standing up, she kneels down. She takes your left hand and kisses your knuckles before sliding on the engagement ring she bought for you. You never really knew what the fuss was about. You don't need a ring to show people you love someone else, but seeing that ring on your finger just makes you feel lighter than air.

You stand up and hug her, just holding her in your arms. You've just solidified your relationship in front of half of the people in Lima. Sam's little sister laughs loudly and everyone starts moving again.

You pull the microphone back up to your mouth. "Um, I'd like to dance with my fiancée, so can we get someone to sing?"

"Landslide!" Mike calls out. When you look at him, he winks at you.

"Who's gonna sing?" Puck asks, standing in front of the punch bowl while Lauren very conspicuously spikes it.

"Quinn!" Sam offers and nudges Quinn toward the microphones. She smiles bashfully as everyone claps to get her up there.

"And Rachel!" Sugar claps.

A round of applause goes up and Rachel doesn't resist the offer. Quinn tentatively steps up to the second microphone and you hand Rachel the one in your hand. They're awkward together right now, but maybe it'll be good for them.

Santana pulls you away from the machine and out of your thoughts about Quinn and Rachel. Her hands thread together behind your neck and your arms wrap around her waist. She gently kisses you as the song starts and all thoughts that were in your mind drift away.

You can hear the words of the song and how beautifully Quinn and Rachel are singing it together, but nothing can bring you down from the high of dancing with Santana. You're definitely playing 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody" at your wedding.


	9. Chapter 9

You've always known that singing with someone was a deeply spiritual thing. Singing with Quinn made your heart soar. Her voice has always been able to cut right into you. It's so beautiful and intimate you always feel like you're alone with her and your entire being is open for her examination.

So when you're done singing, of course you're crying. It seems mandatory now that when you sing with someone and have a moment, even if it's one sided, you cry. You place your microphone in the stand and sniffle. You decide to see what Quinn's reaction is before you leave.

You find that she's watching you; her face is full of concern. You wrap your arms around yourself and step away from the microphones. You quickly walk away, into the house, down the hall, and into the room you've been sharing with Quinn, Santana, and Brittany.

You sit down on the edge of the blanket-covered floor and sigh against the barely padded wood. The dark colors of the room sooth you physically. However your emotions are still a wreck.

You have no idea what you're feeling. Your feelings for Quinn certainly feel real, but if you were to step out of your situation and put someone else in it, you would call them out on their blatant rebound. You don't want Quinn to be a rebound. She's your best friend. She's your rock. You can't hurt her.

But you can't seem to stay away from her. There was always a pull to her, but now you have nothing holding you down. You always had these impulses, but you just assumed that what you were feeling were feelings that everyone had. Now that there's nothing stopping you, you know your feelings go beyond friendship. So far beyond.

You shouldn't think like that though. It'll make it harder to tell her that those kisses were mistakes and you want to continue being best friends. Not that you want... who knows what you want. You certainly don't. You want Quinn, but you want to continue to be best friends. But you WANT her. You want her so badly.

But you can't lose her. You've already lost so much.

A loud bang on the door startles you. You quickly sit up and watch as the door slowly opens. It stops opening about halfway open and then flings the rest of the way open. Brittany and Santana stumble in, attached at the lips. Brittany's hands are on Santana's lower back, keeping her from falling backwards.

They don't seem to notice you until Santana is on her back on the side of the room she and Brittany share. Brittany has her hands on either side of Santana's her body, holding herself up over her fiancée. She looks up at you and grins, "Hey Rachel."

Santana cranes her neck to look up at you. She forces a smile. "Hey."

"We totally weren't gonna have sex," Brittany assures you like you were about to confront them about breaking the Shiva rules. You're still in shock from how fast they got into the room and on the floor. "Just make out."

"Are you okay?" Santana sits up as far as she can with Brittany on top of her. Brittany pushes up, but only enough so that Santana is comfortable on her elbows.

You don't want to burden them especially right after their engagement. You shake your head, "It's nothing. I just needed some space. There's a lot of people here."

"Is it about Quinn?" Santana asks, her voice low like it's a secret.

"Did she tell you anything?" you panic, asking back. It was only after all the words left you mouth that you realize that Santana doesn't really know anything, but now you just blurted out that there is something to know.

"I don't wanna talk about it," You add so that she knows to just let it go. You stand up off of the ground. "I'll give you two some space to not have sex." You try your best to smile and walk out.

You see some people milling around the kitchen so you walk out the front door and look up at the star dotted sky. You find yourself moving to the spot where you and Quinn laid that one night. The one where you kissed her. You want to do it again.

You're staring at the sky, not really thinking about anything. Your mind has been moving so quickly trying to process your feelings that it's finally become so bogged down that it's like your mind is in a dense fog. The kind of fog one would find late night in London in the 1920s. Where dockworkers walk around, drinking and singing gaily while beautifully dressed women watch them from balconies, giggling to each other. Maybe that's more of a Paris thing. You always picture balconies in Paris.

A light tapping on your foot pulls you away from London or Paris. You look up and see that Quinn is standing over you and apparently just tapped your foot with her own. "Hey," her voice is soft, and floats from her mouth down to the ground so that it can snake between you and the grass, wrapping around you, and holding you as an oh so willing hostage. "Are you okay?"

You take a deep breath and shake your head. You could never lie to her. She always knows so you know not to even try.

She kneels down next to you and picks up the hand closest to you. "Tell me what you want with me."

That was quite more direct than you anticipated. You know what you want. It's just hard to say because a few words could ruin everything. "Before I start, I just... Know none of this was my intentions. I suppose that I have to lay my feelings out there because if I don't there will always be this thing between us." You look into her eyes. The beautiful hazel and green that lead to deep thoughts and a kind soul.

She uses both of her hands to hold your hand. "It's okay Rach. I'll always be here for you."

There. She said the promise that you know that you needed. You needed to know that no matter what she would not run off. She knew what to say to get you to talk, but it was more than a gimmick. You know she means it. You lick your lips. "I don't know when or how... it doesn't matter now, I guess, but I think I fell in love with you." She doesn't say anything and you don't expect her to yet. You're one to talk about things in paragraphs so she's waiting for you to finish. You don't like to be one to disappoint. "At first I wondered it if was just because of the divorce. Or if it was because I was lonely. I know it's neither of those. It's just some crazy organic thing that happened and I've been handling it poorly. I'm so sorry for that Quinn."

She smiles at you. Her kind, soft smile. "You're the one that told me I should never apologize for how I feel." She walks her fingers from the back of your hand up your arm to your elbow. She does that sometimes when she's trying to get you to lighten up.

It's working because you smile at her. "How do you feel about... my feelings?"

"At first I..." She pauses, "I mean when you first kissed me I thought it was because you were lonely or just divorced and wanting to do something crazy. Which I would definitely understand," Quinn takes a deep breath to gather herself. She looks away from you to continue, "I also... felt something. Something that I definitely didn't expect. I don't know what it is, but it's a feeling that I'm not quite sure what to do with. When you kissed me that first time... and then in the kitchen, I just... nothing felt wrong."

Her answer gave you way too much hope. You want her to reciprocate your feelings. You want to try this with her. You want to take her out on date and make her so happy. You want her. You just want her so badly. "So can we...try this? Whatever this is. Is that even an option?"

"It's always an option," Quinn runs her fingertips up your arm. "How would you want to go about perusing this?"

"What is this?" you have to speak because if you don't, you'll kiss her again. Her lips are taunting you, not even an entire two feet away from yours.

"Two people, best friends, who have developed romantic feelings for one another," she answer, eloquently. "Where one friend wants to tread lightly because she definitely, definitely does not want to hurt the other friend."

You reach forward and cup Quinn's cheek, running your thumb over the perfect skin. "How could you hurt me?"

"How could I not?" Quinn asks, a deep sigh pulling her body down, dragging her toward the ground.

"You could kiss me back." You can't stand it anymore. You have to kiss her. Your hand wraps around the back of her neck and pulls her down toward you. She goes with it and your lips crash together. It's a chaotic kiss. Your hands grip her hair and she leans into you. You can't stop yourself anymore. In just a few short minutes, you realized that Quinn is everything you ever wanted.

When she finally manages to pull away, she's smiling and panting. "Rach."

"Hmm?" you hum looking up at her. You really did a number on her hair. It looks wild. A messy blonde mane.

"Maybe we can go somewhere, inside or something?" Quinn asks, looking up over your head to wave at a man walking his dog past you, looking at you like you're crazy.

"Good idea," you giggle. "But we can't go into our room. Brittany and Santana are not having sex in there."

Quinn looks at you funny, but you just smile and pull her in for another kiss. Who cares who walks by. Soon you and Quinn will both be gone... to separate universities...

You pull away and look up at her. "Quinn we don't live in the same cities."

"I know," she says, resting her elbow on the ground next to your head and plays with your hair. "Does that change your mind?"

"No. Not at all," you can't have her thinking that you don't really mean anything you say about wanting to be with her. "I want to be with you. I'm just saying that it's going to be... difficult sometimes."

"But I have made my way up to New York plenty of times on the weekends," Quinn offers kissing your forehead.

"And I'll come up to Yale," you smile at her. "I'll be front and center during your first show and I'll stand up first and clap the loudest."

She chuckles shyly and rests her head on your chest, "Thanks Rach."

"I'm also coming to that last one," you kiss the top of her head. "The first and last are the most important."

"Hey," a voice runs at you from the front porch. You look up and see Santana standing on the front porch. "We're going to make a toast."

You hop up and pull Quinn off of the ground. You have no reason to hide anything that just happened between you and Quinn, so you hold her hand all the way through the house and out into backyard.

You see Brittany in front of the microphone. She picks it up off of the stand with a glass of champagne in her other hand. When she sees you and Quinn in the backyard she starts. "This week... I don't think it went how anyone imagined it. So much has happened." You see her smile at Santana and shoot her a wink. That makes you smile because you know how close they came to falling apart.

Brittany looks around. "We all live so far away from each other and Mr. Schue brought us together. Like he used to in high school. We were all so different, but he made us see what we have in common. It used to be music. Now what we have in common is different now. We're older. We have lives. And sometimes it takes something sad to get us all together. But when we come together. It's like we never left Lima." A round of applause goes around and Brittany pauses. She takes a few steps forward and takes Santana's hand. When she does that you feel Quinn wrap her arms around you from the side.

"So, I propose," Brittany says into the microphone as everyone watches her. "that once a year. No matter what's going on or where we are, that we all meet somewhere. So that we don't forget where we came from."

"New York next year!" you call out and everyone laughs.

"New York next year," Brittany agrees.

Everyone takes their turn behind the microphone, telling what they miss about Mr. Schue and what they look forward to in their own lives. When you get up behind the microphone, you have to resist the urge to sing. You just smile. "I have learned so much about myself this week. I have learned that love can pop up in the most unexpected places." You smile at Quinn who is beaming right back at you.

The next day when you leave the house, Quinn is holding your hand. You're both walking out behind Santana and Brittany who you suppose are going to ride off into the sunset on Brittany's dirt bike. You and Quinn opt for a cab that you're sharing with the newly re-minted couple, Samcedes.

This week wasn't the calmest week of your life, but it was the best week that you can remember ever having. You learned to stop over thinking and start living. You're so glad that you came. You're glad that you kissed Quinn and mostly that she kissed you back.

In the end, you're glad that fifteen cards went out in the mail and then fifteen people left their homes for Lima, Ohio.


End file.
